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 Slovakia and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Rufus Thomas to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Reuben Wilson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Human League,
The Cramps,
The Pop Group,
Kenny Larkin,
David Axelrod,
Minutemen,
The Dead C,
James White and The Blacks,
Cal Tjader,
Cecil Taylor,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mandrill,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobby Byrd,
EPMD,
Lalann,
Lakeside,
The Divine Comedy,
Model 500,
JFA,
Icehouse,
The Sound,
The Remains,
Malaria!,
Lower 48,
Sparks,
Magma,
Ponytail,
Terrestrial Tones,
Livin' Joy,
A Certain Ratio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Steve Hackett,
MDC,
Bill Wells,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jeru the Damaja,
Das Ding,
Albert Ayler,
Nico,
Yazoo,
Faraquet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Chris Corsano,
Section 25,
Quadrant,
Scratch Acid,
Lindisfarne,
The Moody Blues,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Excepter,
Fat Boys,
Main Source,
Stetsasonic,
LL Cool J,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.