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 El Salvador and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jacques Brel to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
The Gap Band,
Sex Pistols,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barbara Tucker,
Ornette Coleman,
Letta Mbulu,
Brick,
Neil Young,
New Order,
Sandy B,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Boz Scaggs,
The Moody Blues,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed,
Hasil Adkins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Blossom Toes,
The American Breed,
PIL,
Joey Negro,
Sarah Menescal,
Quantec,
Oneida,
The Angels of Light,
Technova,
Bronski Beat,
Fear,
H. Thieme,
Country Teasers,
The Trojans,
Von Mondo,
Accadde A,
the Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
Camouflage,
Don Cherry,
Jeff Mills,
Donny Hathaway,
Ituana,
Pere Ubu,
The Mummies,
The Cure,
The Pop Group,
Livin' Joy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Moleskins,
Ultra Naté,
Sparks,
Roy Ayers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Schoolly D,
The Grass Roots,
Television Personalities,
Godley & Creme,
The Index,
the Human League,
The Kinks,
Kerri Chandler,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.