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 India and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sex Pistols to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Roger Hodgson,
Harmonia,
MC5,
kango's stein massive,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mandrill,
The Dead C,
Judy Mowatt,
Soft Cell,
Eric Copeland,
Monks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Delon & Dalcan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
CMW,
Godley & Creme,
Derrick Morgan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Slick Rick,
Mars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lakeside,
Theoretical Girls,
Little Man,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Talk Talk,
The Remains,
Erasure,
Reuben Wilson,
Qualms,
Kevin Saunderson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tom Boy,
Warren Ellis,
Wally Richardson,
Tomorrow,
Mark Hollis,
Marc Almond,
Bad Manners,
Monolake,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
These Immortal Souls,
Pole,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Electric Prunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Shoche,
Country Teasers,
Sixth Finger,
Lyres,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ponytail,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Shuggie Otis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.