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 Lesotho and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Country Teasers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Nico,
Gong,
Accadde A,
Johnny Osbourne,
The New Christs,
The American Breed,
Eli Mardock,
Dave Gahan,
The Selecter,
Mo-Dettes,
Peter & Gordon,
Fad Gadget,
Brothers Johnson,
Patti Smith,
Reagan Youth,
Ossler,
Parry Music,
Duran Duran,
Sixth Finger,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed,
John Lydon,
Bobby Byrd,
Sight & Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
The Tremeloes,
Shuggie Otis,
Minnie Riperton,
Joey Negro,
Smog,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Skaos,
OOIOO,
Quando Quango,
Terry Callier,
Camberwell Now,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Christie,
Harpers Bizarre,
Make Up,
Aaron Thompson,
Judy Mowatt,
Lyres,
Dawn Penn,
Marvin Gaye,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobby Sherman,
Von Mondo,
The Gun Club,
Black Moon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter and Kerry,
Severed Heads,
Cecil Taylor,
DJ Sneak,
the Association,
Television,
Blake Baxter,
The Fall,
Bob Dylan,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.