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 Fiji and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 The Residents to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter & Gordon,
The Electric Prunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wasted Youth,
Intrusion,
Scion,
PIL,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sällskapet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Junior Murvin,
The Move,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Wake,
Rod Modell,
T. Rex,
Josef K,
Mantronix,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Erykah Badu,
Electric Prunes,
Bang On A Can,
The Five Americans,
Chris & Cosey,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Moon,
The Durutti Column,
Tears for Fears,
Ken Boothe,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mark Hollis,
Anakelly,
Masters at Work,
Royal Trux,
The Angels of Light,
Tres Demented,
The Moody Blues,
Stiv Bators,
Ituana,
Dawn Penn,
Monks,
Aswad,
Audionom,
The Fugs,
Quando Quango,
The Flesh Eaters,
Television,
Organ,
Iggy Pop,
The Divine Comedy,
Colin Newman,
Morten Harket,
Country Teasers,
Boz Scaggs,
The Slackers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
UT,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nils Olav,
Adolescents,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.