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 Iceland and from Stockholm.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Alarm Clocks to the rap 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba 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 snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Unrelated Segments,
Thee Headcoats,
Fela Kuti,
Shoche,
Vainqueur,
Janne Schatter,
Panda Bear,
K-Klass,
Lyres,
Absolute Body Control,
Neu!,
Bauhaus,
John Lydon,
Pharoah Sanders,
June Days,
Minutemen,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roxette,
Godley & Creme,
The Music Machine,
Isaac Hayes,
Zero Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Khruangbin,
Ossler,
Minny Pops,
Hasil Adkins,
The Mojo Men,
The Dave Clark Five,
Audionom,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bob Dylan,
Sarah Menescal,
Lungfish,
Yusef Lateef,
Drexciya,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Slits,
Crash Course in Science,
Theoretical Girls,
Rites of Spring,
The New Christs,
Moss Icon,
Cal Tjader,
Harmonia,
Barry Ungar,
Sight & Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eddi Front,
Kerri Chandler,
Eli Mardock,
Erasure,
The Stooges,
The Cure,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.