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 Philippines and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro 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 Bobby Womack 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product 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 a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sandy B,
Judy Mowatt,
Quantec,
Q and Not U,
Lyres,
Deepchord,
Royal Trux,
Morten Harket,
Television,
Erykah Badu,
Ten City,
Pussy Galore,
Lalann,
The Seeds,
the Association,
Quando Quango,
Das Ding,
The Gun Club,
Deadbeat,
The Cowsills,
Dennis Brown,
Mars,
Mantronix,
Lindisfarne,
Rod Modell,
A Certain Ratio,
Patti Smith,
Crash Course in Science,
Ronnie Foster,
Guru Guru,
Smog,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Walker Brothers,
The Sound,
Darondo,
Kayak,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Smoke,
Swell Maps,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eden Ahbez,
The Grass Roots,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Golliwogs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soulsonic Force,
Blake Baxter,
The Misunderstood,
Althea and Donna,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wolf Eyes,
Aswad,
Sexual Harrassment,
Technova,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Lydon,
Tomorrow,
Agent Orange,
Al Stewart,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.