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 Burundi and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Remains to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
The Tremeloes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Boogie Down Productions,
June Days,
Dorothy Ashby,
World's Most,
The Gap Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aural Exciters,
Camouflage,
The Shadows of Knight,
This Heat,
The Victims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Organ,
Throbbing Gristle,
Severed Heads,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dual Sessions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Clear Light,
Blancmange,
Cal Tjader,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fall,
Malaria!,
Toni Rubio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Masters at Work,
Rod Modell,
John Cale,
Graham Central Station,
Ornette Coleman,
Lyres,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arthur Verocai,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang of Four,
The Techniques,
The Invisible,
Altered Images,
The Gories,
Stereo Dub,
Pagans,
Pylon,
Visage,
Basic Channel,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Q and Not U,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rites of Spring,
Cybotron,
Aloha Tigers,
Max Romeo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hasil Adkins,
Nik Kershaw,
The Human League,
Byron Stingily,
R.M.O.,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.