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 India and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 John Lydon to the disco 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Bronski Beat,
Piero Umiliani,
Absolute Body Control,
A Certain Ratio,
LL Cool J,
The Happenings,
Mad Mike,
R.M.O.,
Hoover,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Sheep,
The Toasters,
Mission of Burma,
Altered Images,
Public Enemy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Camouflage,
T.S.O.L.,
Model 500,
Max Romeo,
Toni Rubio,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minutemen,
Alison Limerick,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ten City,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cluster,
Gabor Szabo,
Loose Ends,
The Human League,
In Retrospect,
Hardrive,
Bill Near,
The Misunderstood,
Connie Case,
Soul II Soul,
Thompson Twins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Chris Corsano,
The Offenders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Names,
Harry Pussy,
Black Flag,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flipper,
Gang Green,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Blues Magoos,
Wally Richardson,
Jacques Brel,
June Days,
Ludus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ohio Players,
Morten Harket,
The Associates,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.