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 Cambodia and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cheater Slicks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Nas,
Wolf Eyes,
Eric Dolphy,
Sarah Menescal,
Interpol,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
10cc,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Walker Brothers,
Tubeway Army,
Ornette Coleman,
The Raincoats,
The Buckinghams,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Silicon Teens,
Quadrant,
The Black Dice,
Lakeside,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joyce Sims,
Ronan,
Brothers Johnson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vainqueur,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
The Birthday Party,
Mandrill,
Camberwell Now,
Cheater Slicks,
Desert Stars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Flamin' Groovies,
Moss Icon,
Peter and Kerry,
Lucky Dragons,
The Music Machine,
Arcadia,
Barry Ungar,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tomorrow,
Chrome,
Magma,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hoover,
The Dead C,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Blancmange,
Simply Red,
Agent Orange,
K-Klass,
The Pop Group,
T.S.O.L.,
Altered Images,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.