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 Luxembourg and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Idris Muhammad to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Interpol,
Lee Hazlewood,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aural Exciters,
Amazonics,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mummies,
Pylon,
Rites of Spring,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Procol Harum,
Yellowson,
Tubeway Army,
Stetsasonic,
Youth Brigade,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sam Rivers,
Jeff Lynne,
Rod Modell,
Ohio Players,
Joe Smooth,
Depeche Mode,
Barrington Levy,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Starr,
Second Layer,
Delta 5,
Wolf Eyes,
Saccharine Trust,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stereo Dub,
The Electric Prunes,
Minnie Riperton,
Fluxion,
Desert Stars,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Arab on Radar,
Stockholm Monsters,
Au Pairs,
Scrapy,
Duran Duran,
the Normal,
The Slackers,
Infiniti,
Supertramp,
Nico,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
KRS-One,
Faraquet,
the Bar-Kays,
FM Einheit,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Urselle,
David McCallum,
Guru Guru,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dead Boys,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.