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 Ghana and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ludus to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Walker Brothers,
The Saints,
Dead Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
KRS-One,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Monochrome Set,
Soulsonic Force,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alison Limerick,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Faraquet,
Shoche,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Excepter,
DNA,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Grass Roots,
Fad Gadget,
Q and Not U,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lakeside,
The Selecter,
Albert Ayler,
Porter Ricks,
Rites of Spring,
Moby Grape,
ABBA,
Patti Smith,
Wally Richardson,
The Pop Group,
Circle Jerks,
Mad Mike,
48th St. Collective,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ornette Coleman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Young Rascals,
New York Dolls,
The Cure,
The Electric Prunes,
Echospace,
Jacques Brel,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Carl Craig,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neil Young,
Y Pants,
Cecil Taylor,
Girls At Our Best!,
Flipper,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Normal,
David McCallum,
Sister Nancy,
Slave,
Gang Starr,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.