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 Vietnam and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brick,
L. Decosne,
Chris Corsano,
Lyres,
Pantytec,
The Walker Brothers,
Lungfish,
Electric Prunes,
Derrick May,
Ronan,
Section 25,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sixth Finger,
Morten Harket,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lindisfarne,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Martian,
The Star Department,
The Trojans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Christie,
Camouflage,
Radiopuhelimet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Blackbyrds,
Fela Kuti,
Nick Fraelich,
the Normal,
Pantaleimon,
Dave Gahan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Sonics,
Fat Boys,
Slick Rick,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Coltrane,
Procol Harum,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Monks,
Rapeman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Monolake,
Babytalk,
Ponytail,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cymande,
Pere Ubu,
Depeche Mode,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Reagan Youth,
Sparks,
Bang On A Can,
Tears for Fears,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.