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 Denmark and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Model 500 to the grunge 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
The Slits,
U.S. Maple,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sparks,
Scott Walker,
The Doobie Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Robert Görl,
a-ha,
Connie Case,
PIL,
Bluetip,
Public Enemy,
Barrington Levy,
Morten Harket,
The Angels of Light,
Drexciya,
Interpol,
Second Layer,
Kaleidoscope,
The Music Machine,
Dead Boys,
The Monks,
Delta 5,
Fatback Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gladiators,
Yaz,
Qualms,
Wally Richardson,
Ossler,
The Pop Group,
Andrew Hill,
Jacob Miller,
Godley & Creme,
The Dirtbombs,
Duran Duran,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eli Mardock,
The Star Department,
Mo-Dettes,
Isaac Hayes,
Don Cherry,
Mars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Derrick Morgan,
Matthew Bourne,
David Axelrod,
Clear Light,
Aloha Tigers,
David Bowie,
Nik Kershaw,
Rosa Yemen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Wolf Eyes,
The Busters,
Spandau Ballet,
Little Man,
Index,
Minny Pops,
Kas Product,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.