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 Panama and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gap Band to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
The Standells,
Nik Kershaw,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pulsallama,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terry Callier,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Popol Vuh,
Television,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Toasters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Echospace,
The Red Krayola,
The Grass Roots,
Pierre Henry,
Scratch Acid,
June Days,
Adolescents,
the Germs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Patti Smith,
The Slackers,
Brass Construction,
Public Enemy,
Marvin Gaye,
The Blackbyrds,
Eli Mardock,
Brick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
PIL,
Black Bananas,
The Move,
Siglo XX,
Blancmange,
FM Einheit,
Bronski Beat,
Model 500,
Joensuu 1685,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Skaos,
Flipper,
These Immortal Souls,
Brothers Johnson,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Görl,
Organ,
Thee Headcoats,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ronan,
Robert Hood,
John Cale,
Whodini,
Donny Hathaway,
Mars,
Agitation Free,
Zero Boys,
Black Moon,
UT,
Soft Machine,
MDC,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.