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 Papua New Guinea and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lalo Schifrin 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
cv313,
Lakeside,
The Monochrome Set,
Soul II Soul,
Heaven 17,
Public Enemy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cameo,
The Raincoats,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Wasted Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Colin Newman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Amon Düül,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The United States of America,
Cheater Slicks,
Bob Dylan,
Rekid,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Sherman,
Visage,
Babytalk,
Make Up,
Kenny Larkin,
the Association,
Warsaw,
The Cramps,
Harmonia,
AZ,
Wire,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jacques Brel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rotary Connection,
Kerri Chandler,
Tommy Roe,
Gichy Dan,
Lucky Dragons,
Peter & Gordon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dead Boys,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Slits,
Bauhaus,
The Electric Prunes,
Reagan Youth,
Fat Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
H. Thieme,
The Victims,
Warren Ellis,
Bang On A Can,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.