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 Germany and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron 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 Maurizio to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Gang of Four,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mars,
Stiv Bators,
The Cure,
Sun City Girls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gladiators,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Smoke,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roxy Music,
Groovy Waters,
The Kinks,
Y Pants,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Wyatt,
Angry Samoans,
Reuben Wilson,
John Cale,
Surgeon,
Todd Terry,
June Days,
The Gap Band,
Pole,
The Music Machine,
Animal Collective,
Bill Wells,
Guru Guru,
Sonny Sharrock,
Desert Stars,
Black Pus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joey Negro,
ABBA,
Urselle,
Eli Mardock,
Intrusion,
Funkadelic,
Bobby Byrd,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wire,
Technova,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brick,
Jawbox,
Silicon Teens,
Buzzcocks,
Echospace,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
JFA,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.