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 Mozambique and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Absolute Body Control to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Radio Birdman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Echospace,
Rod Modell,
Wally Richardson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Names,
Mr. Review,
Ituana,
Depeche Mode,
David Axelrod,
The Doors,
Jimmy McGriff,
DJ Sneak,
Monks,
China Crisis,
Main Source,
Los Fastidios,
Blake Baxter,
Carl Craig,
Juan Atkins,
Black Sheep,
Circle Jerks,
Zero Boys,
Deepchord,
The Count Five,
The Seeds,
Amazonics,
Throbbing Gristle,
UT,
The Index,
Franke,
Danielle Patucci,
Alison Limerick,
Faust,
Hoover,
T. Rex,
ABC,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Supertramp,
Swell Maps,
Harmonia,
The Black Dice,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Boredoms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Can,
Pantaleimon,
Blancmange,
Bootsy Collins,
Youth Brigade,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marcia Griffiths,
Duran Duran,
Crime,
Gichy Dan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bang On A Can,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.