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 Qatar and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tears for Fears to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Doors,
Fear,
Mr. Review,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funky Four + One,
Ohio Players,
Dead Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
New York Dolls,
The Beau Brummels,
The Gladiators,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Andrew Hill,
ABBA,
Jerry Gold Smith,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sam Rivers,
Royal Trux,
The Dave Clark Five,
Boz Scaggs,
Surgeon,
Shoche,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roger Hodgson,
Lalann,
The J.B.'s,
CMW,
The Motions,
Tom Boy,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Mummies,
Japan,
The Standells,
Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
AZ,
T. Rex,
Echospace,
The Five Americans,
DJ Style,
Warren Ellis,
Youth Brigade,
Peter & Gordon,
Moss Icon,
Public Enemy,
Kaleidoscope,
Visage,
The Victims,
The Slackers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
FM Einheit,
The Moody Blues,
Mission of Burma,
Zero Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Names,
Byron Stingily,
Sällskapet,
Slave,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.