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 Swaziland and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron 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 U.S. Maple to the rap 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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review 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?
Nico,
The Buckinghams,
Marshall Jefferson,
This Heat,
K-Klass,
Maleditus Sound,
Average White Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Godley & Creme,
Depeche Mode,
Jeff Mills,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Toni Rubio,
Masters at Work,
Index,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Modern Lovers,
T. Rex,
Morten Harket,
Robert Hood,
Sixth Finger,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Malaria!,
Blossom Toes,
The Searchers,
Fear,
Loose Ends,
Gichy Dan,
Desert Stars,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Sherman,
the Human League,
Q and Not U,
Sun City Girls,
Can,
New Age Steppers,
The Smiths,
Goldenarms,
Maurizio,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-102,
Erykah Badu,
Radiopuhelimet,
Patti Smith,
Mark Hollis,
The Star Department,
The Associates,
Wolf Eyes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ronnie Foster,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cure,
Amon Düül,
Swell Maps,
Sonic Youth,
Adolescents,
Bizarre Inc.,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bill Near,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.