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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
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 808 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 Altered Images to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arcadia,
Marvin Gaye,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lakeside,
Wasted Youth,
T. Rex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lyres,
Ponytail,
Livin' Joy,
E-Dancer,
Unwound,
Basic Channel,
Kurtis Blow,
Lalann,
kango's stein massive,
ABBA,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Red Krayola,
The Moody Blues,
Sex Pistols,
Sun Ra,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mission of Burma,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Alison Limerick,
Symarip,
Carl Craig,
Buzzcocks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lou Christie,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Monks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Adolescents,
The Misunderstood,
Amazonics,
The Human League,
Ronan,
Roxy Music,
Mad Mike,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-102,
Bobby Byrd,
Ludus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The New Christs,
Ossler,
The Barracudas,
K-Klass,
Yazoo,
Can,
X-Ray Spex,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd..
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.