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 Luxembourg and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nik Kershaw to the grunge 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates 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?
Tears for Fears,
Clear Light,
The Saints,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mars,
Deadbeat,
Suicide,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Silicon Teens,
The Walker Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Quantec,
Sun Ra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cramps,
The Litter,
The Barracudas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Youth Brigade,
Cybotron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Brass Construction,
Arcadia,
AZ,
Junior Murvin,
The Fugs,
Stereo Dub,
Minnie Riperton,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Todd Rundgren,
Darondo,
John Cale,
The Leaves,
Angry Samoans,
Kas Product,
Shoche,
Don Cherry,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sonic Youth,
Susan Cadogan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Danielle Patucci,
The Star Department,
Skaos,
UT,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Amon Düül,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eli Mardock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Soft Cell,
the Sonics,
the Germs,
Jeff Lynne,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.