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 Moldova and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Oblivians to the dance 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Ken Boothe,
The Saints,
Barbara Tucker,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Maleditus Sound,
The Count Five,
Ten City,
Mars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tommy Roe,
The Divine Comedy,
Public Enemy,
CMW,
Malaria!,
Fatback Band,
Siglo XX,
Warsaw,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dead Boys,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Residents,
Newcleus,
the Bar-Kays,
Kenny Larkin,
Theoretical Girls,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
Echospace,
Accadde A,
Derrick May,
Crispy Ambulance,
Laurel Aitken,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sällskapet,
Joy Division,
John Holt,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Thompson Twins,
Ohio Players,
The Birthday Party,
Pulsallama,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Donald Byrd,
Eurythmics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lindisfarne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Technova,
June of 44,
The Blues Magoos,
The Moody Blues,
Sun City Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Anakelly,
Barry Ungar,
A Certain Ratio,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.