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 San Marino and from Shanghai.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fugazi to the punk 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Symarip,
Chrome,
Severed Heads,
The United States of America,
Amazonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Excepter,
Livin' Joy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Matthew Bourne,
Henry Cow,
Pere Ubu,
Can,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lou Christie,
Peter and Kerry,
The Five Americans,
Dennis Brown,
The Velvet Underground,
Marine Girls,
The Moleskins,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Robert Hood,
Jacques Brel,
Dead Boys,
Gang Green,
Agitation Free,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Blancmange,
Index,
Kayak,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aural Exciters,
Outsiders,
Soft Machine,
Arcadia,
Scrapy,
Monolake,
L. Decosne,
Wally Richardson,
Oblivians,
Gichy Dan,
Kas Product,
The Walker Brothers,
Rekid,
The Fuzztones,
Brothers Johnson,
Gabor Szabo,
The Knickerbockers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bill Near,
Kevin Saunderson,
Technova,
Arthur Verocai,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Wake,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.