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 Monaco and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Blues Magoos to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Cheater Slicks,
Sound Behaviour,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joe Smooth,
OOIOO,
Smog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Mantronix,
Ponytail,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Finger,
Eric Copeland,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Q65,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Silicon Teens,
China Crisis,
Masters at Work,
Qualms,
Tubeway Army,
Swell Maps,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Shadows of Knight,
Colin Newman,
Y Pants,
Hot Snakes,
Fear,
Nik Kershaw,
Motorama,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
B.T. Express,
Public Image Ltd.,
Prince Buster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harpers Bizarre,
Television,
The Detroit Cobras,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Black Flag,
Kas Product,
Camberwell Now,
Schoolly D,
Magazine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Liliput,
The J.B.'s,
The American Breed,
The Techniques,
a-ha,
Ronnie Foster,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gories,
The Durutti Column,
Faraquet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lightning Bolt,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.