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 Iran and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Grey Daturas to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Modern Lovers,
The Selecter,
The Gories,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Anakelly,
Masters at Work,
These Immortal Souls,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Monks,
Alphaville,
Quadrant,
The Durutti Column,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pulsallama,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Warsaw,
The Leaves,
Vainqueur,
Bronski Beat,
Joe Finger,
Kerri Chandler,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arab on Radar,
Colin Newman,
Ken Boothe,
Duran Duran,
Amazonics,
The Walker Brothers,
The Human League,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Five Americans,
Niagra,
Flipper,
Ten City,
Donny Hathaway,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dirtbombs,
Al Stewart,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rapeman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hoover,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hashim,
Erasure,
The Electric Prunes,
EPMD,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Neon Judgement,
DJ Sneak,
The Monks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rakim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scott Walker,
John Foxx,
Dawn Penn,
The Cure,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.