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 Cameroon and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Judy Mowatt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crooked Eye,
The Wake,
Patti Smith,
Derrick May,
Ossler,
Yusef Lateef,
Thee Headcoats,
Yazoo,
Au Pairs,
Rekid,
The Golliwogs,
Scion,
Sun City Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
Wally Richardson,
The Knickerbockers,
X-101,
Q and Not U,
Avey Tare,
JFA,
Vainqueur,
Alphaville,
Ornette Coleman,
Main Source,
the Sonics,
Don Cherry,
The Moleskins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Clear Light,
The Alarm Clocks,
Young Marble Giants,
Lindisfarne,
Tubeway Army,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fire Engines,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Teasers,
the Germs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Circle Jerks,
Make Up,
The Pretty Things,
Theoretical Girls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marc Almond,
Reagan Youth,
Excepter,
The Busters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Guru Guru,
UT,
Terry Callier,
The Durutti Column,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.