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 Poland and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Bobby Byrd to the jazz 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Shoche,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Motorama,
Vainqueur,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Colin Newman,
Roxy Music,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dirtbombs,
Ohio Players,
The Monochrome Set,
The Angels of Light,
The Techniques,
Intrusion,
The Standells,
Pantytec,
Qualms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Au Pairs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
In Retrospect,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scientists,
Reuben Wilson,
the Normal,
The Barracudas,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slits,
The Tremeloes,
Rites of Spring,
Jeff Lynne,
Mission of Burma,
Jeff Mills,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yazoo,
The Monks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Al Stewart,
Johnny Clarke,
Saccharine Trust,
Absolute Body Control,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gregory Isaacs,
Audionom,
the Slits,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sugar Minott,
The Fall,
Quando Quango,
The Grass Roots,
Archie Shepp,
Davy DMX,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.