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 Guatemala and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
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 Lindisfarne to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Dorothy Ashby,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sandy B,
Nirvana,
Lalo Schifrin,
David Bowie,
Alphaville,
Chrome,
Motorama,
The United States of America,
Tim Buckley,
Fad Gadget,
Gong,
The Five Americans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Royal Trux,
Eurythmics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Blancmange,
Stiv Bators,
Suburban Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
Marine Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Barracudas,
Youth Brigade,
The Electric Prunes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Loose Ends,
Chris & Cosey,
The Black Dice,
Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
New Order,
Chris Corsano,
The Count Five,
Robert Hood,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dark Day,
Avey Tare,
The Shadows of Knight,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Au Pairs,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Neon Judgement,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Pop Group,
Neil Young,
The Associates,
Tres Demented,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Flag,
The Red Krayola,
One Last Wish,
Gichy Dan,
Black Pus,
ABC,
Agitation Free,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
L. Decosne,
LL Cool J,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.