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 United Kingdom and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cecil Taylor 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Outsiders,
John Cale,
Janne Schatter,
Slave,
Lyres,
Wally Richardson,
Flipper,
F. McDonald,
The Buckinghams,
Black Moon,
MC5,
Yazoo,
Ituana,
Mr. Review,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Görl,
The Gap Band,
Bootsy Collins,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Gun Club,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Sherman,
Crooked Eye,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
CMW,
The Durutti Column,
New York Dolls,
Simply Red,
Eli Mardock,
Ronnie Foster,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Warsaw,
Underground Resistance,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Freddie Wadling,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minny Pops,
Con Funk Shun,
Joyce Sims,
Deadbeat,
David McCallum,
The Fall,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
cv313,
Slick Rick,
Thompson Twins,
Kool Moe Dee,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harry Pussy,
Lucky Dragons,
Average White Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deakin,
Brand Nubian,
The Monks,
ABC,
The American Breed,
Sound Behaviour,
Whodini,
World's Most,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.