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 Saudi Arabia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb 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 Pantytec to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Graham Central Station,
AZ,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Smiths,
Kenny Larkin,
B.T. Express,
Fela Kuti,
Siglo XX,
Eli Mardock,
The Selecter,
The Index,
Sonny Sharrock,
Don Cherry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fat Boys,
Inner City,
Matthew Halsall,
Al Stewart,
Big Daddy Kane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Saccharine Trust,
Depeche Mode,
Junior Murvin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sparks,
Intrusion,
U.S. Maple,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barrington Levy,
The Young Rascals,
Echospace,
The Remains,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Oblivians,
Nils Olav,
Technova,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Parry Music,
Brass Construction,
Neu!,
Duran Duran,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rakim,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lalann,
Boz Scaggs,
Minor Threat,
Cecil Taylor,
Visage,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ponytail,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
China Crisis,
Sun Ra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eric Dolphy,
Ten City,
Wolf Eyes,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.