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 Libya and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Flesh Eaters to the disco 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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
The Tremeloes,
Newcleus,
Black Bananas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lungfish,
Lyres,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jacques Brel,
Los Fastidios,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Altered Images,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marvin Gaye,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Normal,
The Move,
The Grass Roots,
Juan Atkins,
Intrusion,
Model 500,
Hoover,
Bobby Womack,
Frankie Knuckles,
Morten Harket,
Robert Görl,
Terry Callier,
Dark Day,
Quadrant,
Monks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joe Smooth,
These Immortal Souls,
Little Man,
The Mojo Men,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Monks,
Unwound,
Rites of Spring,
Severed Heads,
Steve Hackett,
Popol Vuh,
Bluetip,
Idris Muhammad,
K-Klass,
Junior Murvin,
Aloha Tigers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Blackbyrds,
Agent Orange,
Pulsallama,
Subhumans,
Franke,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Piero Umiliani,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeff Lynne,
Marc Almond,
Robert Hood,
X-101,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.