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 Sri Lanka and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron 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 Tommy Roe to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cheater Slicks,
The Stooges,
Banda Bassotti,
Stereo Dub,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skarface,
R.M.O.,
Q65,
Archie Shepp,
Neil Young,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Suburban Knight,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pole,
Schoolly D,
The Smoke,
The Red Krayola,
Wire,
Tres Demented,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
K-Klass,
Magma,
Little Man,
The Martian,
The Dave Clark Five,
Harmonia,
Lakeside,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Bananas,
Talk Talk,
The Dead C,
The American Breed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aswad,
The Gladiators,
The Blackbyrds,
Jeff Mills,
Scratch Acid,
Eli Mardock,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Byron Stingily,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Star Department,
Livin' Joy,
Sound Behaviour,
Traffic Nightmare,
L. Decosne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Electric Prunes,
Das Ding,
MDC,
The Buckinghams,
Ponytail,
Sun Ra,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.