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 Egypt and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Neon Judgement to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed,
The Busters,
Popol Vuh,
Barry Ungar,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crash Course in Science,
ABC,
Mark Hollis,
Morten Harket,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Electric Prunes,
Lalann,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cheater Slicks,
The Litter,
Unwound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tom Boy,
The Young Rascals,
The Neon Judgement,
Eurythmics,
Girls At Our Best!,
Minny Pops,
The Smoke,
Lightning Bolt,
The Cure,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eric Copeland,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Connie Case,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minutemen,
Gong,
Kevin Saunderson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Steve Hackett,
Rites of Spring,
Tubeway Army,
Franke,
Lindisfarne,
Rakim,
Erasure,
Ken Boothe,
Kurtis Blow,
Lakeside,
Lungfish,
Au Pairs,
Jerry's Kids,
The Electric Prunes,
Malaria!,
Absolute Body Control,
Quantec,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minnie Riperton,
Goldenarms,
The Fuzztones,
Ituana,
Country Teasers,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.