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 Niger and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Bush Tetras to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Darondo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The New Christs,
The Red Krayola,
The Vogues,
Fatback Band,
The Blues Magoos,
The Barracudas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fortunes,
Make Up,
The Selecter,
Bang On A Can,
Pantytec,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Maurizio,
Mantronix,
Harmonia,
Supertramp,
Bill Near,
Moss Icon,
Radio Birdman,
The Count Five,
The Grass Roots,
R.M.O.,
Quando Quango,
Avey Tare,
Erykah Badu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
ABBA,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fad Gadget,
Talk Talk,
Tommy Roe,
The J.B.'s,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Donny Hathaway,
Tomorrow,
Gabor Szabo,
Hot Snakes,
Adolescents,
Qualms,
Marc Almond,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Pretty Things,
Y Pants,
Amazonics,
Livin' Joy,
Fela Kuti,
a-ha,
Tom Boy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
PIL,
Iggy Pop,
The Durutti Column,
Alphaville,
The Monks,
Camouflage,
The Golliwogs,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.