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 Mongolia and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin 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 Tropical Tobacco to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Sister Nancy,
Bill Wells,
Motorama,
Drexciya,
Curtis Mayfield,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amazonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
World's Most,
Mo-Dettes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Warren Ellis,
Crooked Eye,
Lalo Schifrin,
Johnny Clarke,
The Red Krayola,
DJ Sneak,
L. Decosne,
Camouflage,
The Names,
Joy Division,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soul II Soul,
Minnie Riperton,
Massinfluence,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pylon,
Supertramp,
kango's stein massive,
Parry Music,
New York Dolls,
FM Einheit,
Roger Hodgson,
Tim Buckley,
Cal Tjader,
Inner City,
Marc Almond,
Neil Young,
Rapeman,
Radiohead,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Livin' Joy,
The Knickerbockers,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Byrd,
Y Pants,
Heaven 17,
Connie Case,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brand Nubian,
The Martian,
Smog,
Masters at Work,
Pole,
Metal Thangz,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.