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 Libya and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Circle Jerks to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Evens. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Patti Smith,
Audionom,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Tremeloes,
Livin' Joy,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Lydon,
Graham Central Station,
Sugar Minott,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Curtis Mayfield,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ken Boothe,
The Stooges,
Visage,
Sight & Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Von Mondo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minutemen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sun City Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Y Pants,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roy Ayers,
Hoover,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mummies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
X-102,
Moss Icon,
Pulsallama,
Sällskapet,
Franke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Seeds,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Doobie Brothers,
Janne Schatter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Television,
Roxette,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Cale,
The Electric Prunes,
F. McDonald,
The New Christs,
Sister Nancy,
Organ,
Alison Limerick,
Absolute Body Control,
Agent Orange,
Black Sheep,
Little Man,
Nirvana,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.