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 Mongolia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator 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 The Invisible to the rock 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Görl record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Womack,
Mandrill,
David Bowie,
Harry Pussy,
Accadde A,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fat Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Faraquet,
Al Stewart,
Thompson Twins,
Angry Samoans,
EPMD,
The Residents,
Joe Finger,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brick,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Sheep,
Minutemen,
Eddi Front,
The Fuzztones,
Tears for Fears,
Todd Rundgren,
Barrington Levy,
Rapeman,
Mission of Burma,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nils Olav,
Excepter,
Marshall Jefferson,
Neu!,
Cal Tjader,
Severed Heads,
Supertramp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Duran Duran,
Eurythmics,
Hoover,
James White and The Blacks,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultra Naté,
The Gun Club,
Wolf Eyes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Intrusion,
Outsiders,
The Stooges,
Prince Buster,
Minor Threat,
Alphaville,
Joe Smooth,
the Fania All-Stars,
cv313,
X-102,
Maurizio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Buckinghams,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.