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 Norway and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Joe Smooth to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Popol Vuh,
Depeche Mode,
Buzzcocks,
Sister Nancy,
Bronski Beat,
K-Klass,
Swans,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Gap Band,
Fela Kuti,
Procol Harum,
Magazine,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Toasters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Echospace,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Kinks,
the Soft Cell,
Interpol,
New Age Steppers,
Cal Tjader,
Niagra,
Suicide,
The Misunderstood,
Faust,
Mars,
Marine Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-102,
Carl Craig,
Peter & Gordon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lungfish,
Janne Schatter,
The Cure,
Cheater Slicks,
ABBA,
Rotary Connection,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Swell Maps,
T.S.O.L.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Average White Band,
Brick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Buckinghams,
Chrome,
June of 44,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marc Almond,
Lindisfarne,
Mr. Review,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eli Mardock,
Joyce Sims,
The Searchers,
Fluxion,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Josef K,
Erasure,
Goldenarms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.