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 Yemen and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the jazz 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Zeros,
Eve St. Jones,
Bizarre Inc.,
JFA,
Shuggie Otis,
H. Thieme,
Little Man,
Lightning Bolt,
the Association,
Whodini,
Reagan Youth,
Von Mondo,
Roy Ayers,
Junior Murvin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Standells,
Eric Dolphy,
Unrelated Segments,
A Certain Ratio,
Reuben Wilson,
Sun Ra,
Michelle Simonal,
Minutemen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash,
Flipper,
The Smiths,
Brand Nubian,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cybotron,
Cecil Taylor,
Jacques Brel,
Moss Icon,
the Slits,
Lucky Dragons,
Spandau Ballet,
Gong,
Altered Images,
The Monks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Cure,
Bootsy Collins,
Vainqueur,
The Gap Band,
Livin' Joy,
The Last Poets,
Suicide,
The Pretty Things,
MC5,
Sonic Youth,
The Fire Engines,
The Beau Brummels,
Wire,
Ten City,
The Five Americans,
Sarah Menescal,
Brick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.