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 Solomon Islands and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 David Bowie 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 Chrome 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Stetsasonic,
Marc Almond,
Cluster,
Yazoo,
Faraquet,
Gong,
The Black Dice,
Zapp,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Knickerbockers,
Barbara Tucker,
Ice-T,
Essential Logic,
Cymande,
Graham Central Station,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Section 25,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Dead C,
Inner City,
Stereo Dub,
Infiniti,
Dennis Brown,
Saccharine Trust,
Archie Shepp,
Pierre Henry,
Sparks,
Amon Düül,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Q and Not U,
Anakelly,
Pulsallama,
Davy DMX,
Leonard Cohen,
Malaria!,
The Fortunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
E-Dancer,
Bush Tetras,
Sun Ra,
John Foxx,
Don Cherry,
Flash Fearless,
Severed Heads,
Wings,
Sister Nancy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
One Last Wish,
Jacques Brel,
Royal Trux,
Little Man,
The United States of America,
Japan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Robert Hood,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.