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 Estonia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grunge 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Lou Christie,
Malaria!,
Mark Hollis,
Von Mondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
World's Most,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Searchers,
Fad Gadget,
Eve St. Jones,
Bad Manners,
John Holt,
Thompson Twins,
Unrelated Segments,
Lakeside,
Grandmaster Flash,
R.M.O.,
Brothers Johnson,
Severed Heads,
Joe Smooth,
Main Source,
La Düsseldorf,
Robert Görl,
cv313,
B.T. Express,
The Blues Magoos,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Durutti Column,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Parry Music,
Blossom Toes,
The Dead C,
PIL,
The Smoke,
Kayak,
The Count Five,
the Germs,
the Human League,
Agent Orange,
UT,
Carl Craig,
The Mummies,
Scrapy,
The Pretty Things,
MDC,
The Gories,
Yazoo,
Gong,
Inner City,
Lebanon Hanover,
Livin' Joy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mandrill,
This Heat,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Das Ding,
Aswad,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.