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 Mongolia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe 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 Soft Cell to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Slits,
Black Bananas,
Mars,
Nils Olav,
Grandmaster Flash,
James White and The Blacks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harry Pussy,
The Moody Blues,
Arcadia,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Moebius,
The Alarm Clocks,
Quando Quango,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Electric Prunes,
Rites of Spring,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Robert Görl,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alton Ellis,
Black Moon,
the Slits,
The Trojans,
Animal Collective,
The Angels of Light,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers,
Marc Almond,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
The Residents,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Godley & Creme,
Dave Gahan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pussy Galore,
MC5,
Blancmange,
The Fire Engines,
K-Klass,
The Smiths,
Ohio Players,
The Sound,
The Fortunes,
Shuggie Otis,
Crooked Eye,
Soft Machine,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pagans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Whodini,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mr. Review,
Lyres,
The Knickerbockers,
John Coltrane,
Lee Hazlewood,
L. Decosne,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.