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 Nauru and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 F. McDonald to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Soulsonic Force,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roxette,
Suicide,
Grey Daturas,
Soul II Soul,
Metal Thangz,
Crooked Eye,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Young Rascals,
Von Mondo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Stiv Bators,
Crash Course in Science,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Christie,
Blossom Toes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barbara Tucker,
Zero Boys,
Smog,
Jeff Mills,
Pantytec,
The Trojans,
Can,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Wake,
FM Einheit,
Icehouse,
Yusef Lateef,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kerri Chandler,
Wolf Eyes,
Das Ding,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Electric Prunes,
Gang Starr,
Unwound,
The Moleskins,
Black Moon,
Rod Modell,
Arcadia,
Lungfish,
The J.B.'s,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lower 48,
Whodini,
Electric Prunes,
Cecil Taylor,
Main Source,
UT,
Ornette Coleman,
Drive Like Jehu,
These Immortal Souls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cure,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Star Department,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.