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 Vanuatu and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Alarm Clocks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Nas,
Eric Copeland,
48th St. Collective,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wasted Youth,
One Last Wish,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Janne Schatter,
Nik Kershaw,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cymande,
Blake Baxter,
Roxette,
Stetsasonic,
Supertramp,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Bananas,
Moby Grape,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bill Wells,
Massinfluence,
Ultravox,
Moebius,
The Fugs,
Cheater Slicks,
Simply Red,
Funky Four + One,
Deepchord,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The New Christs,
The Fortunes,
The Blues Magoos,
Tubeway Army,
Stiv Bators,
Cluster,
Minor Threat,
The Cowsills,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roxy Music,
The Evens,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Los Fastidios,
The Divine Comedy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Donald Byrd,
Bobby Womack,
Pussy Galore,
Crispy Ambulance,
Maleditus Sound,
Mr. Review,
DJ Sneak,
the Human League,
The Angels of Light,
Rapeman,
Nils Olav,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Beau Brummels,
Thee Headcoats,
Brass Construction,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.