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 Iceland and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer 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 Harmonia to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
F. McDonald,
Subhumans,
Zero Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultravox,
Connie Case,
Angry Samoans,
Tomorrow,
Laurel Aitken,
FM Einheit,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tim Buckley,
the Germs,
The Zeros,
Grey Daturas,
Donny Hathaway,
The Red Krayola,
Gichy Dan,
The Electric Prunes,
the Normal,
Rites of Spring,
OOIOO,
Andrew Hill,
Metal Thangz,
Loose Ends,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed,
The Slits,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fuzztones,
The Busters,
The Seeds,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bluetip,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Blake Baxter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Womack,
Arthur Verocai,
Rufus Thomas,
Robert Hood,
Curtis Mayfield,
Public Enemy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Barbara Tucker,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roxette,
Sällskapet,
Sun Ra,
Zapp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
KRS-One,
Pantytec,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.