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 Brunei and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
The Blues Magoos,
Television Personalities,
Bauhaus,
Danielle Patucci,
Surgeon,
The Techniques,
The Smoke,
Pussy Galore,
Flash Fearless,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Todd Terry,
Cameo,
Excepter,
Scott Walker,
The Slits,
Loose Ends,
the Swans,
Amazonics,
The Names,
Lungfish,
Erasure,
Jeru the Damaja,
Groovy Waters,
Scan 7,
Letta Mbulu,
Icehouse,
Urselle,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nirvana,
Ralphi Rosario,
Morten Harket,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Wyatt,
T. Rex,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lebanon Hanover,
The United States of America,
Wings,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
10cc,
Lindisfarne,
Isaac Hayes,
Outsiders,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Magma,
Man Eating Sloth,
Zapp,
D'Angelo,
The Associates,
The Smiths,
Rapeman,
the Bar-Kays,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bad Manners,
Basic Channel,
Franke,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.