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 Russia and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Make Up to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
The Names,
The Red Krayola,
Eli Mardock,
Agitation Free,
Faust,
The Misunderstood,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tommy Roe,
Pagans,
Tim Buckley,
The Moleskins,
Television Personalities,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Archie Shepp,
Mark Hollis,
Ken Boothe,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gories,
Fat Boys,
June Days,
The Smoke,
R.M.O.,
DNA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Angry Samoans,
Pierre Henry,
David Axelrod,
kango's stein massive,
Derrick May,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lungfish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Reagan Youth,
Wally Richardson,
Marc Almond,
Robert Hood,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barry Ungar,
Easy Going,
Mission of Burma,
Au Pairs,
Iggy Pop,
Saccharine Trust,
The Black Dice,
Alice Coltrane,
The Litter,
China Crisis,
The Doors,
Mantronix,
The Saints,
Wasted Youth,
Shuggie Otis,
The New Christs,
Alphaville,
Albert Ayler,
Y Pants,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.