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 East Timor and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wasted Youth to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
the Sonics,
Supertramp,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fear,
Cabaret Voltaire,
David McCallum,
The Red Krayola,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sällskapet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hot Snakes,
Todd Rundgren,
Harpers Bizarre,
Y Pants,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Darondo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Das Ding,
Jeru the Damaja,
Steve Hackett,
The New Christs,
Q65,
kango's stein massive,
Howard Jones,
Average White Band,
Unrelated Segments,
E-Dancer,
Peter & Gordon,
Liliput,
Skaos,
Make Up,
La Düsseldorf,
Organ,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Christie,
Cymande,
Stiv Bators,
B.T. Express,
Cecil Taylor,
Bad Manners,
Wolf Eyes,
Wire,
Rapeman,
Johnny Clarke,
F. McDonald,
Moby Grape,
The Dave Clark Five,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Circle Jerks,
Niagra,
Buzzcocks,
The American Breed,
Television Personalities,
The Cowsills,
Sixth Finger,
Max Romeo,
Matthew Halsall,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Prince Buster,
June of 44,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.