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 Rwanda and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer 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 Robert Hood to the punk 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Fear,
The Smoke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eli Mardock,
Nik Kershaw,
Barbara Tucker,
Inner City,
Marc Almond,
The Blackbyrds,
Kerrie Biddell,
Unrelated Segments,
Tears for Fears,
K-Klass,
The Skatalites,
Skarface,
Tomorrow,
Sun Ra,
Charles Mingus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Interpol,
Chris & Cosey,
Radio Birdman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thompson Twins,
Iggy Pop,
Aural Exciters,
B.T. Express,
Rod Modell,
Skriet,
Buzzcocks,
Erasure,
Talk Talk,
The Toasters,
Josef K,
The Barracudas,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Man Eating Sloth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Excepter,
Depeche Mode,
James White and The Blacks,
Cecil Taylor,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Seeds,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Second Layer,
Infiniti,
Stereo Dub,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vladislav Delay,
the Association,
Circle Jerks,
Moebius,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Standells,
The Associates,
Sun City Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minnie Riperton,
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.