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 Liberia and from Shanghai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Red Krayola to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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?
Tubeway Army,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tom Boy,
Unrelated Segments,
Donny Hathaway,
Davy DMX,
Siglo XX,
Crispian St. Peters,
David Bowie,
Deepchord,
Lalann,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Standells,
Bob Dylan,
Graham Central Station,
Nation of Ulysses,
Outsiders,
X-101,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eddi Front,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Flag,
Brick,
Urselle,
Infiniti,
The Motions,
Dave Gahan,
James White and The Blacks,
R.M.O.,
Crooked Eye,
The Pretty Things,
FM Einheit,
Boz Scaggs,
Kurtis Blow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Smiths,
the Human League,
Cluster,
Supertramp,
Sixth Finger,
Country Teasers,
Wolf Eyes,
ABBA,
Khruangbin,
Nils Olav,
Skriet,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Wake,
Marmalade,
L. Decosne,
Wings,
Pere Ubu,
Derrick May,
The Walker Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Excepter,
Nas,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.