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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Roxette to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Tubeway Army,
Black Flag,
The Techniques,
Traffic Nightmare,
Technova,
Japan,
Oneida,
Gong,
Laurel Aitken,
Tomorrow,
Nick Fraelich,
The Happenings,
X-101,
Minor Threat,
MDC,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Juan Atkins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Prunes,
E-Dancer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Charles Mingus,
Brothers Johnson,
Panda Bear,
Dark Day,
Cluster,
The Leaves,
Youth Brigade,
Liliput,
The Flesh Eaters,
Zapp,
Marmalade,
Tres Demented,
Unwound,
Gichy Dan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jeff Lynne,
The Motions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Glambeats Corp.,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cecil Taylor,
Nils Olav,
10cc,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Morten Harket,
Television Personalities,
X-Ray Spex,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare,
Ornette Coleman,
The Misunderstood,
Donny Hathaway,
Don Cherry,
Talk Talk,
Blossom Toes,
Visage,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.