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 Cuba and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ 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 the Bar-Kays to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Deakin,
Johnny Clarke,
The Techniques,
Liliput,
Das Ding,
Oblivians,
Trumans Water,
the Swans,
Radio Birdman,
The Fugs,
Slick Rick,
Yaz,
Aural Exciters,
K-Klass,
Gerry Rafferty,
T. Rex,
Erasure,
Pere Ubu,
John Holt,
This Heat,
Rapeman,
Mo-Dettes,
Pantaleimon,
Lucky Dragons,
Supertramp,
Fear,
Arab on Radar,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Real Kids,
Chris & Cosey,
Cluster,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Golliwogs,
The Sound,
ABC,
Alton Ellis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kayak,
Lindisfarne,
Gang Gang Dance,
Michelle Simonal,
Eric Dolphy,
Interpol,
Joyce Sims,
The Kinks,
Television Personalities,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Public Enemy,
Max Romeo,
June of 44,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fortunes,
H. Thieme,
Roxy Music,
Tres Demented,
Girls At Our Best!,
EPMD,
Colin Newman,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bizarre Inc.,
Masters at Work,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.