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 Guatemala and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
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 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 Television Personalities to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Oneida,
Freddie Wadling,
Rotary Connection,
Susan Cadogan,
Arcadia,
the Bar-Kays,
Severed Heads,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Real Kids,
The Seeds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Toni Rubio,
The Moody Blues,
Livin' Joy,
Henry Cow,
Tom Boy,
Cameo,
Y Pants,
Judy Mowatt,
the Germs,
Motorama,
Swans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Pussy Galore,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Womack,
Davy DMX,
The Dave Clark Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maleditus Sound,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gabor Szabo,
Can,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash,
MDC,
Clear Light,
Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Robert Wyatt,
Scott Walker,
Half Japanese,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gories,
X-102,
Suicide,
Max Romeo,
Cymande,
Don Cherry,
Dave Gahan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Steve Hackett,
Quantec,
Electric Prunes,
David Axelrod,
Radiohead,
Barrington Levy,
The Remains,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Main Source,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.