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 Cuba and from Hong Kong.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Scientists to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Zeros,
Alphaville,
Cabaret Voltaire,
OOIOO,
Rhythm & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Patti Smith,
The Gories,
The Dirtbombs,
Drexciya,
Suicide,
Stetsasonic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Don Cherry,
Monolake,
Danielle Patucci,
Slick Rick,
Television,
Schoolly D,
Toni Rubio,
Popol Vuh,
Joy Division,
Intrusion,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fatback Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boredoms,
The Kinks,
The Electric Prunes,
Sonic Youth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gun Club,
Skriet,
Guru Guru,
Amon Düül II,
Rosa Yemen,
Babytalk,
Infiniti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scientists,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dawn Penn,
Al Stewart,
The Selecter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Q65,
Eden Ahbez,
Bang On A Can,
Eddi Front,
The Residents,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lakeside,
John Coltrane,
The Neon Judgement,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Skatalites,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.