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 El Salvador and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin 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 Sandy B to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
R.M.O.,
Pole,
Donald Byrd,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Liliput,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Organ,
Reagan Youth,
Marc Almond,
John Cale,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric Copeland,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Deakin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Moon,
Freddie Wadling,
Accadde A,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mr. Review,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dead C,
The Last Poets,
Model 500,
Groovy Waters,
Sun City Girls,
Prince Buster,
Altered Images,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Starr,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Coltrane,
Qualms,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Matthew Halsall,
Mandrill,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Agent Orange,
X-101,
The Stooges,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sugar Minott,
The Saints,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wally Richardson,
Circle Jerks,
Lucky Dragons,
The United States of America,
Youth Brigade,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roger Hodgson,
Crash Course in Science,
Quantec,
Ice-T,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.