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 Tanzania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ 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 Slave to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Dead Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blake Baxter,
Icehouse,
Easy Going,
Fad Gadget,
Crash Course in Science,
Country Teasers,
Moebius,
Essential Logic,
Harry Pussy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rapeman,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Green,
Japan,
Isaac Hayes,
The Grass Roots,
Dual Sessions,
Prince Buster,
Yellowson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rod Modell,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wally Richardson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Human League,
The Birthday Party,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jerry's Kids,
Steve Hackett,
Yusef Lateef,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Five Americans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mandrill,
Con Funk Shun,
Blancmange,
KRS-One,
Sun Ra,
Mr. Review,
Peter & Gordon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alison Limerick,
The Trojans,
The Residents,
Fatback Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Bar-Kays,
A Certain Ratio,
Banda Bassotti,
Cameo,
Connie Case,
Jawbox,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.