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 Norway and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Holger Czukay 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 Joe Smooth to the punk 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Electric Prunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Moody Blues,
Max Romeo,
Masters at Work,
The Residents,
The Buckinghams,
Zapp,
Gang of Four,
Steve Hackett,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gabor Szabo,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Neon Judgement,
The Five Americans,
Quando Quango,
Con Funk Shun,
Q65,
A Certain Ratio,
Rotary Connection,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kerri Chandler,
Guru Guru,
Lindisfarne,
John Lydon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sugar Minott,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Idris Muhammad,
Soft Machine,
Thee Headcoats,
Yusef Lateef,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Johnny Clarke,
Joyce Sims,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Danielle Patucci,
Rapeman,
Funkadelic,
Underground Resistance,
Malaria!,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pole,
Depeche Mode,
Mr. Review,
The Last Poets,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tears for Fears,
Pylon,
Oblivians,
Anakelly,
Bauhaus,
Urselle,
The Victims,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.