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 Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 OOIOO to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Eric Dolphy,
Pulsallama,
The Cure,
Nils Olav,
Smog,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Duran Duran,
Livin' Joy,
MC5,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pere Ubu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cymande,
Pussy Galore,
Harry Pussy,
Supertramp,
The Moody Blues,
Motorama,
Chris & Cosey,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amazonics,
Spandau Ballet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deakin,
Byron Stingily,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amon Düül,
Angry Samoans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Stereo Dub,
Mars,
Nik Kershaw,
Young Marble Giants,
Lower 48,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Zeros,
T. Rex,
Stiv Bators,
Flash Fearless,
The Count Five,
Dead Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Quantec,
ABC,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minnie Riperton,
Reagan Youth,
Wire,
David Bowie,
Freddie Wadling,
Niagra,
Aural Exciters,
The Fuzztones,
EPMD,
Boredoms,
FM Einheit,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.