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 Sierra Leone and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 James White and The Blacks to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Ohio Players,
Severed Heads,
Eric Copeland,
Massinfluence,
Gong,
the Fania All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Idris Muhammad,
The Techniques,
Soft Cell,
Junior Murvin,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Byron Stingily,
Shoche,
Kaleidoscope,
The Sonics,
Rhythm & Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Television Personalities,
Mark Hollis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Niagra,
Tres Demented,
Audionom,
La Düsseldorf,
Todd Terry,
Con Funk Shun,
Spoonie Gee,
The Count Five,
Chrome,
Silicon Teens,
Kerri Chandler,
U.S. Maple,
Slick Rick,
The Real Kids,
DJ Sneak,
DNA,
Prince Buster,
Thompson Twins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Make Up,
Ronnie Foster,
Minnie Riperton,
Khruangbin,
The Fire Engines,
Magazine,
Ultravox,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Alton Ellis,
The Star Department,
Quantec,
Alison Limerick,
The Slackers,
Hardrive,
Ash Ra Tempel,
B.T. Express,
Whodini,
The United States of America,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.