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 Guinea-Bissau and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tommy Roe to the crunk 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Icehouse,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Groovy Waters,
Subhumans,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultravox,
Scan 7,
Radiohead,
Clear Light,
Stetsasonic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Loose Ends,
June of 44,
Harpers Bizarre,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sister Nancy,
Pantytec,
Essential Logic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Donald Byrd,
Nirvana,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tomorrow,
Intrusion,
Barrington Levy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Patti Smith,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brothers Johnson,
Iggy Pop,
Reagan Youth,
Slick Rick,
Crooked Eye,
Whodini,
Marine Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
The Slits,
Chris Corsano,
The Residents,
Make Up,
Magazine,
In Retrospect,
Deadbeat,
Con Funk Shun,
Saccharine Trust,
Kas Product,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Pus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Zapp,
The Move,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.