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 Italy and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sister Nancy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Scratch Acid,
Yaz,
The Birthday Party,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Evens,
Iggy Pop,
Aloha Tigers,
H. Thieme,
Shuggie Otis,
Amazonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soulsonic Force,
The J.B.'s,
Depeche Mode,
Fatback Band,
Lakeside,
The Busters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Technova,
U.S. Maple,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Selecter,
Masters at Work,
Electric Prunes,
This Heat,
Johnny Clarke,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-101,
Yellowson,
Procol Harum,
Arcadia,
Susan Cadogan,
Barry Ungar,
Delon & Dalcan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camouflage,
Barbara Tucker,
Gichy Dan,
Scientists,
Boz Scaggs,
Leonard Cohen,
Ludus,
Fat Boys,
Ken Boothe,
John Lydon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
DNA,
Cameo,
Supertramp,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Absolute Body Control,
Danielle Patucci,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Amon Düül,
Curtis Mayfield,
Second Layer,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.