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 Tajikistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Monochrome Set to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless 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 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 Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Divine Comedy,
Maleditus Sound,
F. McDonald,
Barrington Levy,
Danielle Patucci,
The Star Department,
Black Bananas,
Moebius,
Little Man,
Mad Mike,
Q and Not U,
Charles Mingus,
Harmonia,
Royal Trux,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Martian,
Los Fastidios,
Bronski Beat,
Sex Pistols,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sonic Youth,
Aswad,
KRS-One,
Deadbeat,
Laurel Aitken,
Johnny Osbourne,
Isaac Hayes,
Howard Jones,
Echospace,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Music Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Ice-T,
Gang Gang Dance,
Flash Fearless,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nik Kershaw,
Country Teasers,
CMW,
Porter Ricks,
Aural Exciters,
The Leaves,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Carl Craig,
The Black Dice,
the Association,
Saccharine Trust,
Slick Rick,
Procol Harum,
Ornette Coleman,
The J.B.'s,
Ultimate Spinach,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Offenders,
Pussy Galore,
Drexciya,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bill Near,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.