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 Liberia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 T. Rex to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare,
The Seeds,
Swell Maps,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Neu!,
Lucky Dragons,
New Age Steppers,
Nico,
Cecil Taylor,
Silicon Teens,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tom Boy,
Thee Headcoats,
Ronan,
Groovy Waters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gories,
ABBA,
Black Pus,
Sun City Girls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Names,
Inner City,
Section 25,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dead Boys,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ronnie Foster,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hoover,
The Raincoats,
Johnny Osbourne,
Susan Cadogan,
Anthony Braxton,
Cybotron,
The Litter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Harry Pussy,
Accadde A,
Aloha Tigers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Depeche Mode,
Fugazi,
Spandau Ballet,
Nirvana,
Chrome,
These Immortal Souls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harmonia,
Man Parrish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Barrington Levy,
10cc,
D'Angelo,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.