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 Algeria and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes 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 June Days to the punk 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Echospace,
Scratch Acid,
Altered Images,
Erasure,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scientists,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Angels of Light,
Rekid,
a-ha,
The Five Americans,
T. Rex,
Ken Boothe,
Minutemen,
Excepter,
Youth Brigade,
The Cowsills,
Buzzcocks,
D'Angelo,
Motorama,
Cheater Slicks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camberwell Now,
Roxy Music,
Glenn Branca,
China Crisis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bad Manners,
Tim Buckley,
Easy Going,
The Cure,
Audionom,
Howard Jones,
Hardrive,
Pantaleimon,
Agent Orange,
Pole,
Robert Görl,
The Litter,
Black Pus,
Trumans Water,
Roxette,
Junior Murvin,
Deadbeat,
Goldenarms,
Maleditus Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
Khruangbin,
Nation of Ulysses,
T.S.O.L.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Invisible,
Intrusion,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minny Pops,
Tom Boy,
Todd Terry,
The Offenders,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.