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 Liberia and from Woodstock.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Newcleus to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Monochrome Set,
The Modern Lovers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rakim,
Lungfish,
Morten Harket,
DJ Sneak,
Laurel Aitken,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sugar Minott,
Intrusion,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Sherman,
Pussy Galore,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dave Gahan,
Inner City,
Soul II Soul,
Scrapy,
Rites of Spring,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Divine Comedy,
Gang Starr,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tropical Tobacco,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fuzztones,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fire Engines,
Dead Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Maleditus Sound,
The Remains,
The Gap Band,
Avey Tare,
Bootsy Collins,
Crooked Eye,
Oblivians,
Pagans,
Nas,
Ponytail,
The Blues Magoos,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
R.M.O.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lakeside,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joyce Sims,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Con Funk Shun,
Reuben Wilson,
The Durutti Column,
Urselle,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jacques Brel,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aswad,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.