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 Tonga and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare 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 OOIOO to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Black Moon,
The Music Machine,
The Durutti Column,
Monks,
Funkadelic,
Max Romeo,
David Axelrod,
Clear Light,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Moody Blues,
Reagan Youth,
Godley & Creme,
Radiopuhelimet,
Minutemen,
The Selecter,
The Leaves,
The Sound,
Buzzcocks,
CMW,
Bobby Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
Vladislav Delay,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joyce Sims,
Average White Band,
Lyres,
Don Cherry,
John Coltrane,
The Offenders,
Moss Icon,
Michelle Simonal,
Eddi Front,
Young Marble Giants,
Hot Snakes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Pop Group,
The Vogues,
the Human League,
Quando Quango,
Maleditus Sound,
The New Christs,
Livin' Joy,
Japan,
Scott Walker,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Supertramp,
Sparks,
Zero Boys,
Quadrant,
Glenn Branca,
Bill Near,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Pus,
Monolake,
Warsaw,
The Gories,
Andrew Hill,
The Detroit Cobras,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.