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 Namibia and from Taipei.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Public Enemy to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Danielle Patucci,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brothers Johnson,
Pantaleimon,
Scott Walker,
Scrapy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Morten Harket,
David Bowie,
Sexual Harrassment,
World's Most,
Alton Ellis,
John Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson,
Yazoo,
Y Pants,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sparks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hardrive,
Loose Ends,
Bill Wells,
Anthony Braxton,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Motorama,
Tim Buckley,
Ohio Players,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Howard Jones,
Anakelly,
Ludus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
UT,
Janne Schatter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sex Pistols,
Sugar Minott,
The Music Machine,
Moss Icon,
Dennis Brown,
Scratch Acid,
The Last Poets,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cal Tjader,
Chris & Cosey,
Tropical Tobacco,
Suburban Knight,
Rosa Yemen,
Royal Trux,
T.S.O.L.,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Human League,
The Motions,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bauhaus,
Liliput,
Dead Boys,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.