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 Singapore and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Marc Almond 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Jawbox,
Niagra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gap Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Cal Tjader,
The Dirtbombs,
Whodini,
Slave,
Robert Wyatt,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Byrd,
Erykah Badu,
Joy Division,
Sam Rivers,
Dark Day,
Deepchord,
Pylon,
L. Decosne,
Rapeman,
Fear,
Skarface,
a-ha,
Ronnie Foster,
The Barracudas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eddi Front,
The Neon Judgement,
The Black Dice,
the Germs,
The Sonics,
Inner City,
Liliput,
Monolake,
Tomorrow,
Cecil Taylor,
The Offenders,
Mars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marvin Gaye,
The United States of America,
Erasure,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Pus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Neil Young,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crime,
Masters at Work,
Gang of Four,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
New York Dolls,
D'Angelo,
Rosa Yemen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nick Fraelich,
Bauhaus,
The Gories,
Quando Quango,
The Move,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.