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 Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lightning Bolt to the techno 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Grandmaster Flash,
48th St. Collective,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rapeman,
The Move,
The Pop Group,
Angry Samoans,
The Names,
The Monochrome Set,
Ponytail,
Roy Ayers,
Cluster,
Smog,
The Moleskins,
JFA,
The Slits,
Eden Ahbez,
Funkadelic,
Silicon Teens,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Electric Prunes,
The Durutti Column,
Barbara Tucker,
Cymande,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scratch Acid,
Piero Umiliani,
It's A Beautiful Day,
David McCallum,
Rakim,
Country Teasers,
Panda Bear,
Lou Christie,
The Music Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
A Certain Ratio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jimmy McGriff,
Donald Byrd,
Fifty Foot Hose,
LL Cool J,
The Fuzztones,
Arthur Verocai,
Babytalk,
Minor Threat,
Harry Pussy,
Eddi Front,
The Searchers,
Monks,
Black Flag,
Crooked Eye,
Hot Snakes,
Deakin,
Reagan Youth,
Wasted Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy Collins,
Au Pairs,
Negative Approach,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.