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 Romania and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the punk 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba 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 organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
James White and The Blacks,
Joey Negro,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Oneida,
Darondo,
Kenny Larkin,
The Martian,
D'Angelo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Livin' Joy,
The Sonics,
Joy Division,
Monks,
Donny Hathaway,
ABBA,
Wings,
The Move,
Ponytail,
Clear Light,
The Dirtbombs,
Tom Boy,
Stetsasonic,
The Monks,
Connie Case,
the Fania All-Stars,
Technova,
a-ha,
The Gladiators,
The Divine Comedy,
X-Ray Spex,
Roger Hodgson,
Pulsallama,
Robert Görl,
Gong,
Arcadia,
Iggy Pop,
Cal Tjader,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Moody Blues,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The American Breed,
Derrick Morgan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brass Construction,
Rites of Spring,
Grey Daturas,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eric Copeland,
Jerry's Kids,
David McCallum,
Lyres,
Pagans,
The Evens,
Nik Kershaw,
kango's stein massive,
Chris Corsano,
The Durutti Column,
Lalann,
Jimmy McGriff,
Swell Maps,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.