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 Spain and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Max Romeo to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Suicide,
Ossler,
Thompson Twins,
Brothers Johnson,
Bill Wells,
The Count Five,
Eli Mardock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cecil Taylor,
The Stooges,
the Germs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Smog,
Hashim,
Pierre Henry,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Modern Lovers,
Glambeats Corp.,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Foxx,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bush Tetras,
Gang Gang Dance,
Duran Duran,
Erasure,
Amazonics,
The Angels of Light,
Man Parrish,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Ronan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jandek,
The Shadows of Knight,
Adolescents,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Human League,
The Fall,
The Five Americans,
Connie Case,
Rakim,
Clear Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
L. Decosne,
Alice Coltrane,
The Knickerbockers,
Mad Mike,
Barbara Tucker,
James White and The Blacks,
Monks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Carl Craig,
the Association,
A Certain Ratio,
Faust,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Monochrome Set,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kerri Chandler,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.