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 Tunisia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 L. Decosne to the funk 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
The Associates,
cv313,
Spoonie Gee,
Sun Ra,
Donny Hathaway,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minutemen,
The Seeds,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Half Japanese,
Goldenarms,
The Mummies,
Sixth Finger,
The Standells,
Fugazi,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fatback Band,
Camberwell Now,
The Gladiators,
Niagra,
June of 44,
Tears for Fears,
Television,
Sex Pistols,
Angry Samoans,
Ituana,
The Residents,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rapeman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Stetsasonic,
The Angels of Light,
Susan Cadogan,
Hoover,
Kurtis Blow,
Minnie Riperton,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Vainqueur,
Kayak,
Eve St. Jones,
Echospace,
Mo-Dettes,
the Soft Cell,
Traffic Nightmare,
Grauzone,
The Vogues,
Bootsy Collins,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rotary Connection,
Jacob Miller,
Gregory Isaacs,
Aswad,
The New Christs,
Second Layer,
Eddi Front,
The Golliwogs,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.