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 Pakistan and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Arthur Verocai to the disco 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
David McCallum,
Funkadelic,
The Young Rascals,
PIL,
Theoretical Girls,
The Smiths,
The Gladiators,
Crispy Ambulance,
JFA,
One Last Wish,
The Toasters,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxy Music,
Marshall Jefferson,
Schoolly D,
Soft Machine,
Janne Schatter,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Christie,
Alice Coltrane,
Ossler,
June Days,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Television Personalities,
Wire,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joensuu 1685,
Terry Callier,
Kenny Larkin,
Shoche,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nation of Ulysses,
U.S. Maple,
Stereo Dub,
Gastr Del Sol,
Guru Guru,
Jerry's Kids,
Moss Icon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Slave,
T. Rex,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Holt,
Gong,
Mad Mike,
Ornette Coleman,
Matthew Bourne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Underground Resistance,
Royal Trux,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rapeman,
Quando Quango,
New Order,
Spandau Ballet,
Scratch Acid,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.