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 Somalia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin 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 Kool Moe Dee to the punk 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantaleimon,
The Moleskins,
The Martian,
Brand Nubian,
Eric Dolphy,
Scientists,
Maleditus Sound,
Ronan,
Ken Boothe,
T. Rex,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rod Modell,
cv313,
Mr. Review,
The Index,
Funky Four + One,
X-101,
Panda Bear,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
R.M.O.,
The Walker Brothers,
The Litter,
Youth Brigade,
AZ,
Vainqueur,
Lakeside,
The Blues Magoos,
Sun City Girls,
Stereo Dub,
F. McDonald,
Livin' Joy,
Oblivians,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Soul II Soul,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Modern Lovers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Metal Thangz,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crispian St. Peters,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gun Club,
Ultra Naté,
Reagan Youth,
Radio Birdman,
Andrew Hill,
Judy Mowatt,
Ronnie Foster,
The Doobie Brothers,
Easy Going,
Severed Heads,
Angry Samoans,
The Motions,
Bill Near,
Kenny Larkin,
Toni Rubio,
Boz Scaggs,
Anthony Braxton,
Dawn Penn,
The Mojo Men,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.