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 Fiji and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin 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 PIL to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Accadde A,
Flipper,
Harry Pussy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stetsasonic,
The Trojans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bill Near,
Unrelated Segments,
Lucky Dragons,
The Neon Judgement,
The Victims,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Grass Roots,
Jeff Lynne,
Half Japanese,
The Cowsills,
Mr. Review,
Arab on Radar,
John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Au Pairs,
Pierre Henry,
Ultra Naté,
Eric Copeland,
Masters at Work,
The Human League,
The Pretty Things,
Aswad,
Oblivians,
Crime,
Porter Ricks,
B.T. Express,
World's Most,
Nas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Holt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The New Christs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ossler,
Marine Girls,
the Swans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Electric Light Orchestra,
cv313,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Con Funk Shun,
The Slackers,
Delta 5,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ponytail,
The Gap Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Quando Quango,
Ronan,
Lungfish,
The Zeros,
The Cramps,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dave Gahan,
Shoche,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.