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 Nepal and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Detroit Cobras to the techno 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth 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 '90s.
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 The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
The Pop Group,
Duran Duran,
Symarip,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rakim,
Ossler,
Sparks,
Black Moon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Leaves,
Whodini,
the Association,
Country Joe & The Fish,
David McCallum,
Harpers Bizarre,
Quadrant,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dawn Penn,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
PIL,
Bad Manners,
Ken Boothe,
kango's stein massive,
Sun City Girls,
The Slackers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thee Headcoats,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bush Tetras,
The Knickerbockers,
The Human League,
Albert Ayler,
Talk Talk,
Arab on Radar,
Mad Mike,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mr. Review,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Q65,
Silicon Teens,
Pole,
Moby Grape,
Cecil Taylor,
Matthew Halsall,
Buzzcocks,
The Gladiators,
Marshall Jefferson,
Brass Construction,
Jawbox,
The Mojo Men,
Accadde A,
Al Stewart,
Connie Case,
Peter and Kerry,
Youth Brigade,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.