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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Wally Richardson to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Terrestrial Tones,
Zero Boys,
Crime,
China Crisis,
John Lydon,
Isaac Hayes,
Bluetip,
Faust,
The Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
Man Parrish,
Infiniti,
EPMD,
The Gories,
Rosa Yemen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Laurel Aitken,
Desert Stars,
Black Flag,
Ponytail,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Television,
Maurizio,
Barry Ungar,
John Coltrane,
Rhythm & Sound,
One Last Wish,
Black Pus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Erykah Badu,
Fat Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobby Womack,
Todd Rundgren,
Stetsasonic,
Wasted Youth,
CMW,
the Slits,
The Dirtbombs,
Barrington Levy,
Joyce Sims,
Theoretical Girls,
Buzzcocks,
Chris & Cosey,
Sandy B,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Darondo,
X-102,
B.T. Express,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Modern Lovers,
The Kinks,
Blossom Toes,
Make Up,
Cybotron,
Terry Callier,
Y Pants,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sex Pistols,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.