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 Swaziland and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator 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 Maleditus Sound to the crunk 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Victims,
Ultravox,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mantronix,
Magma,
a-ha,
Simply Red,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Colin Newman,
Brick,
DJ Style,
The Martian,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Blues Magoos,
Radio Birdman,
Bluetip,
Lyres,
E-Dancer,
Stetsasonic,
Nils Olav,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mark Hollis,
Eddi Front,
The Mummies,
Grandmaster Flash,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Velvet Underground,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The New Christs,
Echospace,
Oblivians,
The Gladiators,
Glenn Branca,
Donald Byrd,
Robert Hood,
Japan,
Lightning Bolt,
Thee Headcoats,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Durutti Column,
Reagan Youth,
Supertramp,
Panda Bear,
The Vogues,
The Fortunes,
The Cure,
Chris & Cosey,
Ornette Coleman,
Vainqueur,
Aloha Tigers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sound,
Aswad,
Angry Samoans,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.