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 Cambodia and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Lalo Schifrin 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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television Personalities,
Amazonics,
Stetsasonic,
The Moleskins,
The Searchers,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cowsills,
Skarface,
Mad Mike,
Spoonie Gee,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Techniques,
Bang On A Can,
Fluxion,
The Beau Brummels,
Outsiders,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lalann,
Half Japanese,
Scrapy,
Parry Music,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
U.S. Maple,
Nirvana,
Agent Orange,
cv313,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Durutti Column,
Depeche Mode,
Brothers Johnson,
Matthew Halsall,
Severed Heads,
The Offenders,
Soul Sonic Force,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aloha Tigers,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
8 Eyed Spy,
D'Angelo,
Pulsallama,
Don Cherry,
Bill Wells,
Kerri Chandler,
Index,
F. McDonald,
The Cramps,
Carl Craig,
The Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Hashim,
David Bowie,
Gregory Isaacs,
Albert Ayler,
The Tremeloes,
Alton Ellis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eli Mardock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Camouflage,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.