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 Belgium and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba 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 DNA to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Smog,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Flash Fearless,
Neu!,
Deepchord,
Wings,
Nik Kershaw,
Rakim,
FM Einheit,
Can,
Ultra Naté,
Cybotron,
La Düsseldorf,
This Heat,
Robert Wyatt,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
DJ Style,
Joe Smooth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang of Four,
David Bowie,
Warsaw,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ohio Players,
Half Japanese,
Infiniti,
Hasil Adkins,
Bronski Beat,
One Last Wish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
L. Decosne,
The Move,
Man Parrish,
The Monks,
New York Dolls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Liliput,
Sällskapet,
Au Pairs,
Intrusion,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yusef Lateef,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rites of Spring,
The Zeros,
Marine Girls,
The Happenings,
Ice-T,
Cal Tjader,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nas,
Ten City,
Eurythmics,
The Fall,
T. Rex,
Desert Stars,
Tomorrow,
the Soft Cell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soft Machine,
The Barracudas,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.