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 Korea North and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ice-T to the electroclash 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a 808 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 clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Warsaw,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thee Headcoats,
Zapp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Electric Prunes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ludus,
Howard Jones,
Cal Tjader,
Bluetip,
The Star Department,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Moody Blues,
Skaos,
Bad Manners,
Jandek,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bill Near,
Alison Limerick,
Make Up,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bobby Sherman,
48th St. Collective,
Spoonie Gee,
The Standells,
Sun Ra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Litter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Charles Mingus,
Outsiders,
Arthur Verocai,
June of 44,
Yellowson,
Bang On A Can,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Minutemen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Reuben Wilson,
Amazonics,
The Blackbyrds,
Boz Scaggs,
The Barracudas,
Tres Demented,
Vladislav Delay,
Mary Jane Girls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
X-101,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Funky Four + One,
The Flesh Eaters,
La Düsseldorf,
Zero Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Blancmange,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.