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 Kuwait and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the techno 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
T. Rex,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ituana,
The Litter,
Lalann,
The Happenings,
Marine Girls,
Von Mondo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eli Mardock,
Eurythmics,
Black Sheep,
Lower 48,
Carl Craig,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pierre Henry,
The Zeros,
The Fuzztones,
Essential Logic,
Todd Terry,
Al Stewart,
Can,
The Vogues,
Q65,
Mo-Dettes,
Yellowson,
KRS-One,
Amon Düül II,
The Birthday Party,
Skaos,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Index,
Mandrill,
The Motions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minny Pops,
Ten City,
Grey Daturas,
The Last Poets,
Slick Rick,
Ken Boothe,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mr. Review,
Monks,
Tres Demented,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Maleditus Sound,
Arcadia,
Matthew Bourne,
Moebius,
Anthony Braxton,
Organ,
Nico,
Ice-T,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pet Shop Boys,
Average White Band,
Eddi Front,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.