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 Botswana and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Marc Almond to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Sällskapet,
8 Eyed Spy,
K-Klass,
Khruangbin,
Japan,
The Smoke,
Hasil Adkins,
Second Layer,
The Barracudas,
Aaron Thompson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Motorama,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Vogues,
Stockholm Monsters,
Soft Cell,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Babytalk,
Grey Daturas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Animal Collective,
Prince Buster,
Black Moon,
David Bowie,
Gang Starr,
The Moleskins,
The Last Poets,
Fad Gadget,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang of Four,
Wings,
Bauhaus,
F. McDonald,
Ornette Coleman,
Ken Boothe,
The Victims,
Zapp,
Carl Craig,
Roxette,
Dorothy Ashby,
Faust,
Crooked Eye,
Howard Jones,
T.S.O.L.,
Wasted Youth,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Unrelated Segments,
Leonard Cohen,
Joey Negro,
Malaria!,
The Zeros,
Das Ding,
The Techniques,
In Retrospect,
Unwound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Vainqueur,
One Last Wish,
Bob Dylan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.