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 Argentina and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Barbara Tucker to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eden Ahbez,
Fat Boys,
Gang of Four,
Rosa Yemen,
the Bar-Kays,
Juan Atkins,
Minutemen,
Suburban Knight,
Rakim,
Sly & The Family Stone,
June of 44,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Groovy Waters,
Marc Almond,
Procol Harum,
Godley & Creme,
the Soft Cell,
Japan,
D'Angelo,
The Last Poets,
Little Man,
Slave,
Bauhaus,
Icehouse,
The Names,
Glambeats Corp.,
Subhumans,
Laurel Aitken,
Con Funk Shun,
Lyres,
Minny Pops,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Modern Lovers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Gun Club,
Essential Logic,
Au Pairs,
John Foxx,
Cal Tjader,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gap Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joyce Sims,
The Moleskins,
Radio Birdman,
David Bowie,
Sandy B,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Residents,
Fatback Band,
Can,
Unrelated Segments,
Nirvana,
Magma,
Whodini,
Avey Tare,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.