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 Samoa and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Suicide to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cybotron,
Stiv Bators,
The Selecter,
Spandau Ballet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dawn Penn,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang of Four,
Quando Quango,
Don Cherry,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Banda Bassotti,
Angry Samoans,
Adolescents,
Pantaleimon,
The Cure,
Neil Young,
Connie Case,
Eric B and Rakim,
Little Man,
The Remains,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cymande,
The Evens,
Second Layer,
Gang Starr,
Mark Hollis,
Crime,
Prince Buster,
June Days,
Cecil Taylor,
John Foxx,
The Kinks,
Japan,
One Last Wish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lakeside,
The Angels of Light,
Rakim,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Von Mondo,
Oblivians,
Zapp,
The Busters,
Gong,
Mo-Dettes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barbara Tucker,
Laurel Aitken,
The Invisible,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tommy Roe,
Sparks,
KRS-One,
PIL,
Pole,
Black Pus,
Panda Bear,
FM Einheit,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.