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 Haiti and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Lou Christie to the grunge 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Negative Approach,
Mary Jane Girls,
One Last Wish,
The Monks,
The Litter,
Sex Pistols,
Shoche,
Scion,
Y Pants,
Moebius,
Tim Buckley,
Ultravox,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Deadbeat,
The Smiths,
H. Thieme,
Newcleus,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Byrd,
Scratch Acid,
The Moleskins,
Au Pairs,
Visage,
Hardrive,
48th St. Collective,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lee Hazlewood,
Shuggie Otis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Urselle,
Warsaw,
the Soft Cell,
Anthony Braxton,
Connie Case,
Technova,
Index,
Faraquet,
The Index,
Ronan,
Inner City,
The Blackbyrds,
Whodini,
Mantronix,
Stockholm Monsters,
Babytalk,
Stiv Bators,
Rekid,
the Sonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Smog,
Loose Ends,
Section 25,
Bobby Womack,
Sexual Harrassment,
Amon Düül II,
June Days,
A Certain Ratio,
Wire,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.