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 Morocco and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 X-101 to the rap 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Main Source,
Chrome,
Popol Vuh,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soul II Soul,
Porter Ricks,
This Heat,
The Durutti Column,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Panda Bear,
the Germs,
Barbara Tucker,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eddi Front,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The American Breed,
Sparks,
Mars,
The Music Machine,
Dave Gahan,
Severed Heads,
Matthew Bourne,
The Walker Brothers,
Supertramp,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Swans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Shuggie Otis,
The Standells,
Jacques Brel,
The Motions,
Agent Orange,
LL Cool J,
Kayak,
Fat Boys,
Archie Shepp,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Darondo,
Young Marble Giants,
Derrick Morgan,
Donald Byrd,
The Mummies,
Nils Olav,
Quantec,
David McCallum,
The Moleskins,
Kas Product,
Inner City,
Goldenarms,
Sexual Harrassment,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Normal,
Massinfluence,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fire Engines,
Yazoo,
Joey Negro,
Heaven 17,
Eden Ahbez,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.