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 Sudan and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fuzztones to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Joyce Sims,
Radio Birdman,
Intrusion,
Marshall Jefferson,
Audionom,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Beau Brummels,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jawbox,
the Normal,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barry Ungar,
Slave,
Hoover,
the Association,
Unrelated Segments,
Nico,
The Neon Judgement,
The Velvet Underground,
Peter and Kerry,
The Dirtbombs,
Amon Düül,
The Pop Group,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Mills,
Tom Boy,
The Angels of Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Zero Boys,
Stiv Bators,
Steve Hackett,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Basic Channel,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Delon & Dalcan,
Skriet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stereo Dub,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Misunderstood,
Slick Rick,
Newcleus,
Connie Case,
Crooked Eye,
The Music Machine,
Pagans,
The Buckinghams,
The Walker Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rod Modell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Franke,
Procol Harum,
David McCallum,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yellowson,
Crispian St. Peters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sex Pistols,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.