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 Togo and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Youth Brigade,
Erykah Badu,
Joe Finger,
Magazine,
The Move,
Radiohead,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Starr,
D'Angelo,
Reagan Youth,
The Selecter,
The Moody Blues,
Faust,
Gang of Four,
Colin Newman,
the Slits,
Kaleidoscope,
Steve Hackett,
The Litter,
Banda Bassotti,
Johnny Clarke,
Lalann,
The Saints,
Ronnie Foster,
X-101,
Ponytail,
the Normal,
Dennis Brown,
kango's stein massive,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Barrington Levy,
Soulsonic Force,
Rotary Connection,
L. Decosne,
Dark Day,
T.S.O.L.,
Brand Nubian,
Ken Boothe,
The New Christs,
Mandrill,
John Lydon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Excepter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hot Snakes,
Ossler,
Vladislav Delay,
Quantec,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Searchers,
Faraquet,
The Alarm Clocks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Masters at Work,
Godley & Creme,
Liliput,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.