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 Vanuatu and from Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Harpers Bizarre to the grunge 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Lower 48,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Holt,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tim Buckley,
Average White Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Associates,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Suicide,
Harry Pussy,
Zapp,
Shuggie Otis,
Index,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jacques Brel,
This Heat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crooked Eye,
Scan 7,
Althea and Donna,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Country Teasers,
The Smoke,
Easy Going,
Quantec,
Porter Ricks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Young Marble Giants,
the Germs,
Das Ding,
DJ Style,
Curtis Mayfield,
Livin' Joy,
the Swans,
KRS-One,
Chris Corsano,
Piero Umiliani,
Royal Trux,
The Standells,
Bobby Womack,
The Misunderstood,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Slits,
Cymande,
Flash Fearless,
Desert Stars,
Amon Düül,
Pussy Galore,
Yusef Lateef,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rod Modell,
Amazonics,
The Stooges,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Skriet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Qualms,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.