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 Chad and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin 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 Essential Logic to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Tropical Tobacco,
Absolute Body Control,
Icehouse,
MDC,
The Last Poets,
Underground Resistance,
Malaria!,
Ultra Naté,
Avey Tare,
Fat Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
F. McDonald,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Janne Schatter,
Ponytail,
The Residents,
Alison Limerick,
The Fall,
Reuben Wilson,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Vogues,
Simply Red,
Agent Orange,
Lalann,
Crash Course in Science,
The Human League,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Make Up,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eurythmics,
Newcleus,
The Birthday Party,
Sonny Sharrock,
Symarip,
Dead Boys,
Hot Snakes,
Panda Bear,
Tommy Roe,
Brass Construction,
Monks,
Excepter,
the Human League,
Don Cherry,
JFA,
Lou Reed,
The Mummies,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Move,
Piero Umiliani,
Laurel Aitken,
Sister Nancy,
Crime,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Suburban Knight,
Jeff Mills,
Essential Logic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Swell Maps,
La Düsseldorf,
Eli Mardock,
The Young Rascals,
Moebius,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.