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 Madagascar and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Alice Coltrane to the jazz 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
Janne Schatter,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Stiv Bators,
The Move,
T.S.O.L.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zapp,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric Copeland,
Roxy Music,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cybotron,
The Velvet Underground,
David Axelrod,
48th St. Collective,
Pagans,
Television Personalities,
cv313,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Whodini,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pierre Henry,
Underground Resistance,
Gang Gang Dance,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Durutti Column,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Yazoo,
Khruangbin,
CMW,
Joe Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
Pussy Galore,
Quadrant,
Organ,
Rites of Spring,
Glenn Branca,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultimate Spinach,
Dead Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
U.S. Maple,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oneida,
Arthur Verocai,
Crime,
Minor Threat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bronski Beat,
Crash Course in Science,
Make Up,
Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Monolake,
Yellowson,
Sex Pistols,
JFA,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.