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 Slovakia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe 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 Kerrie Biddell to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Tremeloes,
Jerry's Kids,
Steve Hackett,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dawn Penn,
Los Fastidios,
The Electric Prunes,
Public Enemy,
Crispy Ambulance,
The New Christs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Malaria!,
Zero Boys,
The Zeros,
Nick Fraelich,
Jawbox,
The Durutti Column,
Joe Finger,
The Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wings,
Glenn Branca,
the Soft Cell,
The Cure,
World's Most,
David Axelrod,
John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
Quando Quango,
Crime,
Jimmy McGriff,
Guru Guru,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Alison Limerick,
Tubeway Army,
Gang Starr,
Clear Light,
Bang On A Can,
Eli Mardock,
These Immortal Souls,
Trumans Water,
Roxy Music,
The Pretty Things,
Excepter,
Ten City,
Motorama,
Electric Light Orchestra,
OOIOO,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Selecter,
The Gap Band,
Ultravox,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Organ,
Bad Manners,
Fear,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.