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 Mozambique and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 The Names to the punk 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rosa Yemen,
Make Up,
Jawbox,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ponytail,
Thee Headcoats,
Eddi Front,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick Morgan,
Minutemen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nils Olav,
DJ Style,
Brass Construction,
Young Marble Giants,
Jacob Miller,
The Birthday Party,
John Lydon,
Vainqueur,
Roxette,
Suicide,
The Litter,
Tears for Fears,
Minnie Riperton,
cv313,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rakim,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Sneak,
Marshall Jefferson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Negative Approach,
The Grass Roots,
Charles Mingus,
Angry Samoans,
China Crisis,
Sällskapet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
World's Most,
Boz Scaggs,
the Bar-Kays,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aloha Tigers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scan 7,
Nirvana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barbara Tucker,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Funkadelic,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Matthew Halsall,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.