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 Italy and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Donald Fagen 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 Five Americans to the jazz 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Aswad,
Eric Copeland,
Fluxion,
Jerry's Kids,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Gories,
Radiohead,
Flash Fearless,
Iggy Pop,
Oneida,
Dark Day,
The Stooges,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Amon Düül II,
Pere Ubu,
Roger Hodgson,
Bad Manners,
Minor Threat,
Terry Callier,
The Remains,
Ludus,
Godley & Creme,
Minutemen,
New Order,
The Gap Band,
Fad Gadget,
Visage,
The Evens,
Cameo,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Massinfluence,
the Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ten City,
Mo-Dettes,
Goldenarms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Duran Duran,
Robert Görl,
the Slits,
FM Einheit,
Harmonia,
Section 25,
Warren Ellis,
JFA,
The Names,
Marmalade,
Smog,
Soul Sonic Force,
F. McDonald,
Alphaville,
T.S.O.L.,
Surgeon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bill Near,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.