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 Tajikistan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
The Young Rascals,
The Move,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Y Pants,
Ponytail,
Simply Red,
Livin' Joy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grauzone,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Metal Thangz,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Velvet Underground,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crooked Eye,
Andrew Hill,
U.S. Maple,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Al Stewart,
Average White Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Michelle Simonal,
Technova,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rekid,
Outsiders,
Sandy B,
Lou Reed,
ABBA,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pere Ubu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Moss Icon,
Neil Young,
Nick Fraelich,
Marmalade,
Pulsallama,
Amazonics,
The Count Five,
cv313,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Man Eating Sloth,
Freddie Wadling,
Maurizio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Easy Going,
Little Man,
Erykah Badu,
Drexciya,
Youth Brigade,
Tim Buckley,
Icehouse,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.