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 Costa Rica and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the electroclash 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
The Black Dice,
Royal Trux,
The Blackbyrds,
Maurizio,
Lakeside,
Jacob Miller,
The Gun Club,
Ludus,
The Skatalites,
Swell Maps,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nico,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Panda Bear,
Josef K,
Spandau Ballet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Procol Harum,
The Misunderstood,
The Cure,
In Retrospect,
The Electric Prunes,
Pole,
Avey Tare,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Easy Going,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Sonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Blancmange,
Tom Boy,
The Fugs,
AZ,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oneida,
Kurtis Blow,
La Düsseldorf,
Sexual Harrassment,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eli Mardock,
Byron Stingily,
Crash Course in Science,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bush Tetras,
Franke,
Ronnie Foster,
Inner City,
Trumans Water,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sight & Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Absolute Body Control,
the Swans,
Little Man,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.