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 Chile and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin 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 10cc to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eddi Front,
Robert Görl,
Animal Collective,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joe Finger,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Clear Light,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hoover,
Moss Icon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Monks,
Andrew Hill,
Stiv Bators,
Rotary Connection,
Goldenarms,
The Blues Magoos,
Bob Dylan,
La Düsseldorf,
Zapp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Model 500,
Henry Cow,
The Young Rascals,
The Seeds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Little Man,
The Gap Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joe Smooth,
Ultravox,
Aswad,
DNA,
Archie Shepp,
FM Einheit,
Dual Sessions,
The Move,
Quando Quango,
The Techniques,
Visage,
The Selecter,
The Gories,
Patti Smith,
Television Personalities,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terry Callier,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jacob Miller,
The Slits,
Barrington Levy,
Skriet,
Spandau Ballet,
Panda Bear,
The Dirtbombs,
Flash Fearless,
China Crisis,
Infiniti,
Magma,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.