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 Sweden and from Hong Kong.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sandy B to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Black Bananas,
Mars,
Tom Boy,
Skaos,
Buzzcocks,
Skriet,
Fatback Band,
The Real Kids,
Scott Walker,
Rekid,
Echospace,
Ice-T,
The Remains,
Amazonics,
The Move,
the Bar-Kays,
Ponytail,
Nico,
Mandrill,
Tommy Roe,
Barclay James Harvest,
Althea and Donna,
Deakin,
Khruangbin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
June Days,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gerry Rafferty,
In Retrospect,
The Walker Brothers,
The Residents,
Swans,
Make Up,
Judy Mowatt,
UT,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lakeside,
Sound Behaviour,
Harry Pussy,
Kayak,
Stiv Bators,
Gang Starr,
LL Cool J,
Blancmange,
Peter & Gordon,
Icehouse,
Connie Case,
The Human League,
The Skatalites,
Ultra Naté,
Suburban Knight,
Magma,
Talk Talk,
kango's stein massive,
The Red Krayola,
Amon Düül,
Au Pairs,
Bad Manners,
The Divine Comedy,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.