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 Moldova and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Lagos and Sao Paulo.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
David Axelrod,
Harry Pussy,
Joensuu 1685,
Sun Ra,
Heaven 17,
Minutemen,
A Certain Ratio,
Erykah Badu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kas Product,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Talk Talk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobby Byrd,
The Barracudas,
Bauhaus,
Motorama,
Y Pants,
Mantronix,
Eden Ahbez,
Slick Rick,
Aural Exciters,
Spandau Ballet,
The Divine Comedy,
Minnie Riperton,
The Searchers,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Finger,
Nik Kershaw,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Yusef Lateef,
Ronnie Foster,
Ken Boothe,
ABBA,
X-101,
Byron Stingily,
The Toasters,
the Swans,
The Index,
Lalann,
The Beau Brummels,
The Invisible,
Supertramp,
Roger Hodgson,
Zero Boys,
The Birthday Party,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rites of Spring,
The Young Rascals,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Khruangbin,
Monolake,
Lyres,
X-Ray Spex,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pantaleimon,
Grauzone,
Amon Düül,
Agitation Free,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.