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 Jordan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Hasil Adkins to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rod Modell,
Surgeon,
The Litter,
The Smoke,
Chrome,
The American Breed,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mojo Men,
Maleditus Sound,
Darondo,
The Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Wally Richardson,
Simply Red,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Monochrome Set,
Lou Reed,
Amazonics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soft Cell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bill Wells,
John Foxx,
Drexciya,
Juan Atkins,
Jeff Mills,
Soul Sonic Force,
In Retrospect,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jacques Brel,
The Birthday Party,
Easy Going,
Gerry Rafferty,
Girls At Our Best!,
One Last Wish,
Connie Case,
The Zeros,
The Busters,
The Black Dice,
The Associates,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Leaves,
Harmonia,
Animal Collective,
Godley & Creme,
Soul II Soul,
EPMD,
Qualms,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Real Kids,
Jeru the Damaja,
Moss Icon,
June of 44,
Ludus,
The Fall,
The Sound,
Camberwell Now,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.