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 Jamaica and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Intrusion to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nas,
Blancmange,
Marvin Gaye,
Leonard Cohen,
Fatback Band,
Dead Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Vladislav Delay,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Maurizio,
Ultra Naté,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sonics,
Minutemen,
Camouflage,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Smoke,
The Mummies,
X-101,
Warsaw,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Vogues,
Pantaleimon,
Fad Gadget,
Banda Bassotti,
Roy Ayers,
Minor Threat,
Surgeon,
Steve Hackett,
U.S. Maple,
Whodini,
Moebius,
One Last Wish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pulsallama,
Gang of Four,
The Barracudas,
Tres Demented,
Monolake,
Freddie Wadling,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fall,
June Days,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
Reagan Youth,
Royal Trux,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Moon,
Cluster,
Sex Pistols,
Letta Mbulu,
10cc,
Bob Dylan,
Grey Daturas,
Sun City Girls,
Television Personalities,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.