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 Sri Lanka and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 48th St. Collective to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mantronix,
The Move,
The Associates,
Soul II Soul,
Shoche,
Deakin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Vogues,
Marc Almond,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lebanon Hanover,
Interpol,
Bill Wells,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Barracudas,
the Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
Aloha Tigers,
Susan Cadogan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mad Mike,
Television Personalities,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pagans,
Thompson Twins,
Liliput,
Malaria!,
Throbbing Gristle,
Donald Byrd,
Sun Ra,
Gabor Szabo,
Letta Mbulu,
Niagra,
Clear Light,
A Certain Ratio,
Tears for Fears,
Livin' Joy,
Steve Hackett,
Groovy Waters,
Brothers Johnson,
Adolescents,
Amon Düül II,
Sandy B,
The Walker Brothers,
Main Source,
Juan Atkins,
Cameo,
Brick,
Country Teasers,
Lindisfarne,
Soft Cell,
Moebius,
Eli Mardock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Agent Orange,
Blancmange,
Minor Threat,
The Neon Judgement,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.