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 Algeria and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Colin Newman to the crunk 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Radio Birdman,
Pole,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Livin' Joy,
Alphaville,
Duran Duran,
Lalann,
Ornette Coleman,
Gang Green,
Robert Wyatt,
Ohio Players,
Mad Mike,
Intrusion,
Pantaleimon,
Stereo Dub,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marine Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang of Four,
10cc,
Simply Red,
Eric Copeland,
Iggy Pop,
Camouflage,
Basic Channel,
Stiv Bators,
Sugar Minott,
Dawn Penn,
Trumans Water,
Young Marble Giants,
Marshall Jefferson,
Theoretical Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Maleditus Sound,
Derrick May,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pantytec,
Public Enemy,
Blancmange,
Groovy Waters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultimate Spinach,
Index,
Echospace,
Roger Hodgson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joyce Sims,
Animal Collective,
Charles Mingus,
Black Bananas,
Sällskapet,
The Gladiators,
Ultravox,
In Retrospect,
The Stooges,
Bobby Byrd,
Lindisfarne,
the Bar-Kays,
Mr. Review,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.