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 Kuwait and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the rap 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skarface,
The Motions,
The United States of America,
A Certain Ratio,
DJ Sneak,
Urselle,
Jandek,
Al Stewart,
Eric B and Rakim,
Quantec,
Ronan,
Harmonia,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Byrd,
The Monks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Donald Byrd,
The Misunderstood,
Los Fastidios,
The Grass Roots,
Graham Central Station,
Wolf Eyes,
Darondo,
Franke,
The Slits,
The Residents,
Lou Reed,
David McCallum,
The Dave Clark Five,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Knickerbockers,
Sparks,
The Slackers,
The Mojo Men,
F. McDonald,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott Heron,
Radio Birdman,
KRS-One,
Wally Richardson,
Joyce Sims,
Fad Gadget,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Blossom Toes,
Rosa Yemen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Livin' Joy,
The Electric Prunes,
Todd Rundgren,
The Saints,
Throbbing Gristle,
Organ,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Depeche Mode,
Pussy Galore,
The Index,
The New Christs,
Khruangbin,
Erykah Badu,
The Selecter,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.