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 Germany and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Michael McDonald 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
John Foxx,
The Saints,
JFA,
PIL,
Warren Ellis,
Lower 48,
The Tremeloes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Pus,
Moby Grape,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Victims,
The Young Rascals,
Arcadia,
The Electric Prunes,
Babytalk,
Malaria!,
Soul II Soul,
the Germs,
Organ,
Chris Corsano,
Byron Stingily,
The Count Five,
Basic Channel,
Frankie Knuckles,
Morten Harket,
Swell Maps,
The Angels of Light,
Infiniti,
New Age Steppers,
the Sonics,
The Star Department,
The Raincoats,
Pantytec,
Eddi Front,
Toni Rubio,
Scrapy,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Axelrod,
Oblivians,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Moody Blues,
Television,
Sonic Youth,
Second Layer,
Ludus,
Pierre Henry,
The Pretty Things,
OOIOO,
The Shadows of Knight,
Agitation Free,
Alton Ellis,
Unwound,
Au Pairs,
Tres Demented,
Shuggie Otis,
Stiv Bators,
The Evens,
John Holt,
Stereo Dub,
Joyce Sims,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.