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 Kyrgyzstan and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marvin Gaye to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Flash Fearless,
Soft Machine,
Iggy Pop,
Surgeon,
Motorama,
Alice Coltrane,
Steve Hackett,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Angels of Light,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Durutti Column,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Vladislav Delay,
Fad Gadget,
Pantaleimon,
Ultra Naté,
Simply Red,
Minnie Riperton,
Quando Quango,
The Move,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Magazine,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dead C,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cramps,
Heaven 17,
Eddi Front,
Big Daddy Kane,
Don Cherry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Magma,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Görl,
Nico,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Slackers,
The Wake,
Blake Baxter,
New Age Steppers,
Jerry's Kids,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chris & Cosey,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fugs,
Marine Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Throbbing Gristle,
Japan,
Pagans,
Gang Starr,
Inner City,
Kevin Saunderson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Derrick May,
World's Most,
Von Mondo,
The Fuzztones,
Television,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.