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 Botswana and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 American Breed to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Carl Craig,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Subhumans,
AZ,
The Selecter,
Magazine,
Danielle Patucci,
Agent Orange,
Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Liliput,
Flash Fearless,
Letta Mbulu,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric Copeland,
Pagans,
Yellowson,
Motorama,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soft Cell,
Robert Görl,
R.M.O.,
Desert Stars,
Mantronix,
the Association,
Kayak,
June of 44,
Alphaville,
Television Personalities,
the Swans,
The Leaves,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nils Olav,
The Neon Judgement,
Patti Smith,
The Red Krayola,
the Human League,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Monks,
Newcleus,
Eddi Front,
Jacques Brel,
Toni Rubio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobby Byrd,
The Kinks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fluxion,
Boz Scaggs,
the Soft Cell,
Joy Division,
Barbara Tucker,
Juan Atkins,
Cheater Slicks,
Rekid,
The Music Machine,
Grey Daturas,
Ice-T,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.