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 South Africa and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J 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 a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mojo Men,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Suburban Knight,
Pussy Galore,
The Index,
Marc Almond,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Coltrane,
World's Most,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Erasure,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Prince Buster,
Clear Light,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tears for Fears,
Mark Hollis,
Robert Hood,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Offenders,
The Motions,
Crooked Eye,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dead C,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crash Course in Science,
Drexciya,
The Smiths,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neu!,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joyce Sims,
Slick Rick,
Second Layer,
The Searchers,
the Soft Cell,
Matthew Bourne,
Jacob Miller,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Barracudas,
X-102,
Colin Newman,
Rufus Thomas,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Remains,
Marvin Gaye,
Wally Richardson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Five Americans,
Y Pants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Popol Vuh,
Niagra,
Alton Ellis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.