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 Cameroon and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joey Negro,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joyce Sims,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Sound,
The Velvet Underground,
Cameo,
Average White Band,
Eric Copeland,
Talk Talk,
Delta 5,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sugar Minott,
Hoover,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Slave,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ossler,
Crime,
The Mojo Men,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bauhaus,
Nik Kershaw,
Boz Scaggs,
Thee Headcoats,
Deadbeat,
Mr. Review,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Throbbing Gristle,
Robert Görl,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gabor Szabo,
Oblivians,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cure,
Bobby Womack,
John Coltrane,
a-ha,
Yusef Lateef,
UT,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fall,
This Heat,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultravox,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sonics,
The Doors,
Eli Mardock,
Neil Young,
Amon Düül,
Minutemen,
Ludus,
Negative Approach,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.