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 Russia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 mellotron 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 Stockholm Monsters to the punk 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Can,
Man Parrish,
Moebius,
The Litter,
Gong,
Flipper,
The Fugs,
Gabor Szabo,
Khruangbin,
Qualms,
Derrick May,
Interpol,
Kerri Chandler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radio Birdman,
These Immortal Souls,
Hot Snakes,
The Human League,
the Germs,
John Lydon,
Minny Pops,
The Techniques,
Vladislav Delay,
Spoonie Gee,
Rakim,
Mandrill,
Faust,
Pantytec,
Ohio Players,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Procol Harum,
F. McDonald,
Gang Starr,
Zapp,
Sonny Sharrock,
ABC,
Young Marble Giants,
Sandy B,
Scion,
Soft Cell,
New York Dolls,
The Saints,
Crooked Eye,
The Blues Magoos,
Livin' Joy,
Piero Umiliani,
Graham Central Station,
Toni Rubio,
Joensuu 1685,
The Doors,
ABBA,
The Names,
Sun Ra,
Ultimate Spinach,
Second Layer,
The Evens,
Vainqueur,
Ken Boothe,
Shoche,
Laurel Aitken,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.