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 Belarus and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Holger Czukay 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 K-Klass to the jazz 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Minutemen,
Arab on Radar,
Freddie Wadling,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eve St. Jones,
Agent Orange,
Reagan Youth,
The Invisible,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
MC5,
Amon Düül,
Model 500,
New Order,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Foxx,
The Mummies,
Moby Grape,
Donald Byrd,
JFA,
The Happenings,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Echospace,
Fluxion,
Excepter,
Jacob Miller,
The Saints,
Andrew Hill,
Joyce Sims,
Babytalk,
Little Man,
Johnny Clarke,
Albert Ayler,
Television Personalities,
X-101,
The Pretty Things,
Trumans Water,
Bad Manners,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scott Walker,
DNA,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pagans,
Hoover,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Donny Hathaway,
The Real Kids,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Television,
Hardrive,
Rosa Yemen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Sherman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Public Enemy,
The Slackers,
Sound Behaviour,
Nik Kershaw,
Todd Terry,
Reuben Wilson,
Neu!,
The Trojans,
Al Stewart,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.