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 Morocco and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 FM Einheit 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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Cell,
Interpol,
Electric Prunes,
The Associates,
John Lydon,
Roxette,
Ken Boothe,
Funky Four + One,
F. McDonald,
The Index,
Monks,
Goldenarms,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Music Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Normal,
Cal Tjader,
Blancmange,
Davy DMX,
Second Layer,
Johnny Clarke,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ice-T,
Parry Music,
Nas,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sarah Menescal,
Eric Copeland,
the Human League,
Junior Murvin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Little Man,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Duran Duran,
Massinfluence,
UT,
Archie Shepp,
Pussy Galore,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Golliwogs,
Guru Guru,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Barracudas,
Aural Exciters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sister Nancy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Harpers Bizarre,
Donny Hathaway,
Crime,
D'Angelo,
Judy Mowatt,
Banda Bassotti,
AZ,
Niagra,
Boredoms,
Man Parrish,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.