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 Guatemala and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar 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 Simply Red to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bill Near,
Panda Bear,
The Wake,
Dead Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mo-Dettes,
Deepchord,
Chris & Cosey,
The Move,
PIL,
Ken Boothe,
Al Stewart,
Peter & Gordon,
This Heat,
Subhumans,
Susan Cadogan,
D'Angelo,
Yaz,
Piero Umiliani,
Tropical Tobacco,
Robert Görl,
Idris Muhammad,
Con Funk Shun,
Pierre Henry,
The Stooges,
Absolute Body Control,
Cameo,
Joy Division,
Michelle Simonal,
Bauhaus,
The Kinks,
Hashim,
Ten City,
Lucky Dragons,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rapeman,
Grey Daturas,
Drive Like Jehu,
Hoover,
Josef K,
Ronnie Foster,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fortunes,
Quantec,
Bad Manners,
Charles Mingus,
Babytalk,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Banda Bassotti,
Sandy B,
Johnny Clarke,
Nirvana,
The Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
The Sisters of Mercy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
In Retrospect,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Leonard Cohen,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.