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 Solomon Islands and from Madrid.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Trojans to the rap 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Soft Cell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Cramps,
Little Man,
Barry Ungar,
The Tremeloes,
Adolescents,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Maleditus Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Trumans Water,
Frankie Knuckles,
Prince Buster,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lungfish,
Bizarre Inc.,
Siglo XX,
Reuben Wilson,
The Buckinghams,
Pulsallama,
Excepter,
Blossom Toes,
AZ,
Roxy Music,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Terry Callier,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gories,
Lalann,
The Sound,
Matthew Halsall,
Flipper,
Tim Buckley,
the Sonics,
Mars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skarface,
Crash Course in Science,
The Music Machine,
Silicon Teens,
China Crisis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jerry's Kids,
The Black Dice,
Scott Walker,
X-101,
Junior Murvin,
Rakim,
Carl Craig,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Schoolly D,
Arcadia,
Interpol,
Agitation Free,
Brand Nubian,
Boz Scaggs,
Pantaleimon,
Easy Going,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.