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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Delhi.
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 Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 One Last Wish to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Section 25,
Pierre Henry,
Flipper,
The Fugs,
Amazonics,
Mad Mike,
DNA,
The Move,
Yaz,
Wings,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Audionom,
Carl Craig,
Chrome,
U.S. Maple,
Dead Boys,
Groovy Waters,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gories,
New Order,
48th St. Collective,
Von Mondo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Malaria!,
Leonard Cohen,
Desert Stars,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Das Ding,
Eurythmics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deadbeat,
Judy Mowatt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Swans,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Urselle,
The Barracudas,
Junior Murvin,
Can,
Scientists,
Rakim,
Outsiders,
Cluster,
Chris & Cosey,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
Harry Pussy,
Lower 48,
Royal Trux,
John Holt,
Gang Starr,
Black Flag,
Quadrant,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.