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 Samoa and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Move to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico 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?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Television Personalities,
the Association,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mad Mike,
The Misunderstood,
Jerry's Kids,
KRS-One,
the Normal,
Maleditus Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
These Immortal Souls,
Sex Pistols,
Boogie Down Productions,
Zero Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bronski Beat,
Gichy Dan,
E-Dancer,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Blancmange,
Altered Images,
Terry Callier,
Intrusion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Faraquet,
The Tremeloes,
Negative Approach,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pantaleimon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Todd Terry,
Pere Ubu,
Yaz,
The Music Machine,
Sister Nancy,
Black Moon,
Slick Rick,
Nation of Ulysses,
Glenn Branca,
Quadrant,
Saccharine Trust,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wire,
Quantec,
The Fire Engines,
Marine Girls,
Cameo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Buzzcocks,
Echospace,
Sixth Finger,
Symarip,
Brand Nubian,
Cecil Taylor,
Tomorrow,
Siglo XX,
The Cure,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.