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 Brunei and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 Columbus and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator 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 Blues Magoos to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Skriet,
Roger Hodgson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tommy Roe,
Flipper,
Marvin Gaye,
Unwound,
The Cure,
Colin Newman,
Fluxion,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The United States of America,
Thee Headcoats,
The Motions,
Godley & Creme,
Harmonia,
Monolake,
Pere Ubu,
Japan,
The Happenings,
The Remains,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Five Americans,
Cybotron,
Groovy Waters,
Robert Wyatt,
Desert Stars,
Heaven 17,
Das Ding,
Surgeon,
Ten City,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gladiators,
Wings,
The Blackbyrds,
Warsaw,
Procol Harum,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bluetip,
Fat Boys,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Sherman,
Suicide,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cameo,
Smog,
Crispian St. Peters,
Aswad,
Sister Nancy,
La Düsseldorf,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Visage,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Reagan Youth,
the Germs,
Minny Pops,
Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.