Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Eritrea and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Crooked Eye to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Vainqueur,
Robert Wyatt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Erykah Badu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cal Tjader,
The Detroit Cobras,
Colin Newman,
UT,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Slick Rick,
Judy Mowatt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Sound,
John Holt,
Derrick Morgan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Walker Brothers,
PIL,
Ultravox,
Aloha Tigers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Procol Harum,
Gerry Rafferty,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marmalade,
The Real Kids,
U.S. Maple,
Delon & Dalcan,
Echospace,
Sister Nancy,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultra Naté,
Terry Callier,
Eddi Front,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
MC5,
Ituana,
Desert Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
the Human League,
Kool Moe Dee,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
This Heat,
Essential Logic,
The Young Rascals,
Lucky Dragons,
Altered Images,
Godley & Creme,
Ossler,
The Invisible,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rosa Yemen,
Magazine,
Sandy B,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Minutemen,
Lou Christie,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.