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 New Zealand and from Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ronan to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Infiniti,
Eddi Front,
B.T. Express,
Cameo,
Heaven 17,
Lee Hazlewood,
Au Pairs,
The Grass Roots,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Neil Young,
The Barracudas,
Bang On A Can,
Blake Baxter,
Janne Schatter,
Aswad,
Mad Mike,
La Düsseldorf,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott Heron,
Malaria!,
Danielle Patucci,
The Five Americans,
Grauzone,
Masters at Work,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wasted Youth,
Terry Callier,
Spoonie Gee,
Khruangbin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soul II Soul,
Smog,
the Bar-Kays,
Joyce Sims,
The Smoke,
Excepter,
The Gladiators,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deepchord,
Ituana,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Can,
Robert Hood,
Ash Ra Tempel,
LL Cool J,
Sandy B,
In Retrospect,
Soulsonic Force,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Zapp,
New York Dolls,
Dawn Penn,
Boogie Down Productions,
Radio Birdman,
Kaleidoscope,
Scan 7,
Desert Stars,
L. Decosne,
Swell Maps,
Mantronix,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.