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 Serbia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin 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 EPMD to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Con Funk Shun,
Fear,
Fluxion,
Masters at Work,
Mission of Burma,
Grauzone,
Talk Talk,
FM Einheit,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dennis Brown,
Joe Finger,
The Doors,
The J.B.'s,
Yazoo,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Dead C,
Crash Course in Science,
Bluetip,
Blossom Toes,
Scan 7,
Jerry's Kids,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smoke,
Rod Modell,
Pole,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eurythmics,
Stockholm Monsters,
Khruangbin,
Ken Boothe,
Sun City Girls,
Prince Buster,
Tomorrow,
Stereo Dub,
Warren Ellis,
New Order,
Swans,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Human League,
Cameo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dorothy Ashby,
Skriet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dead Boys,
Siglo XX,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Swans,
June of 44,
The Count Five,
Motorama,
The Pop Group,
Bush Tetras,
Derrick Morgan,
Parry Music,
Todd Terry,
Ohio Players,
Eddi Front,
T. Rex,
Johnny Osbourne,
Magma,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.