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 Bahrain and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Glasgow.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Vladislav Delay,
The Zeros,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marine Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Nik Kershaw,
The Five Americans,
Half Japanese,
The Litter,
John Foxx,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scrapy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rites of Spring,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Toasters,
Steve Hackett,
Subhumans,
Sun Ra,
U.S. Maple,
Bush Tetras,
Organ,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Andrew Hill,
Joe Smooth,
Alison Limerick,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marc Almond,
The Human League,
Ken Boothe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bronski Beat,
In Retrospect,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Blackbyrds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Public Enemy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pere Ubu,
The Seeds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Main Source,
Sight & Sound,
One Last Wish,
Sällskapet,
Avey Tare,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Animal Collective,
X-102,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sam Rivers,
Parry Music,
The Barracudas,
Nico,
Harry Pussy,
Accadde A,
Howard Jones,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.