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 Togo and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet 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 MC5 to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deepchord,
Don Cherry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
These Immortal Souls,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Barracudas,
Public Enemy,
Khruangbin,
The Searchers,
Shoche,
John Coltrane,
Maleditus Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tears for Fears,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Wake,
Pierre Henry,
Severed Heads,
Joe Finger,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Moleskins,
The Count Five,
Brand Nubian,
D'Angelo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Boz Scaggs,
Ornette Coleman,
Derrick May,
Black Pus,
The Skatalites,
The Cramps,
Stiv Bators,
Darondo,
Monolake,
The Sound,
Talk Talk,
Cameo,
Slick Rick,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Essential Logic,
The Move,
Average White Band,
Model 500,
The Names,
London Community Gospel Choir,
This Heat,
Nas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marc Almond,
Underground Resistance,
Ronnie Foster,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Wyatt,
Bill Wells,
Harry Pussy,
The Blackbyrds,
The Walker Brothers,
Al Stewart,
Jerry's Kids,
Tommy Roe,
The Smiths,
Bobby Hutcherson,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.