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 Suriname and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gastr Del Sol to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Deadbeat,
Pussy Galore,
Second Layer,
Motorama,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ten City,
Lalann,
Ponytail,
Suicide,
Rites of Spring,
Babytalk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bootsy Collins,
Jesper Dahlback,
Vladislav Delay,
Con Funk Shun,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Altered Images,
Rod Modell,
Guru Guru,
Jerry's Kids,
The Kinks,
Theoretical Girls,
Andrew Hill,
The Beau Brummels,
The Velvet Underground,
Tres Demented,
Erykah Badu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crime,
Nico,
Icehouse,
The Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Rosa Yemen,
Skarface,
Pere Ubu,
Goldenarms,
Mars,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Outsiders,
The Red Krayola,
UT,
Buzzcocks,
Juan Atkins,
Surgeon,
Faust,
Erasure,
AZ,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jandek,
Sparks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Foxx,
Television Personalities,
Prince Buster,
Niagra,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.