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 Libya and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Minny Pops to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Letta Mbulu,
Technova,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
F. McDonald,
Japan,
Barbara Tucker,
The Walker Brothers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hoover,
Talk Talk,
The Index,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nirvana,
Joey Negro,
Johnny Clarke,
Moebius,
Metal Thangz,
The Smoke,
Man Parrish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Amon Düül II,
Wire,
Organ,
Gregory Isaacs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Yellowson,
Dave Gahan,
Barrington Levy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crime,
the Soft Cell,
Livin' Joy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
U.S. Maple,
John Cale,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Count Five,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dead Boys,
Pierre Henry,
The Misunderstood,
Young Marble Giants,
Funky Four + One,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hashim,
The Red Krayola,
The Kinks,
Danielle Patucci,
Roxette,
Warren Ellis,
Rosa Yemen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Graham Central Station,
Eyeless In Gaza,
R.M.O.,
The United States of America,
Youth Brigade,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.