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 Ukraine and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron 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 Harmonia to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Todd Terry,
Magma,
KRS-One,
the Germs,
Tommy Roe,
The Victims,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric Copeland,
Erykah Badu,
China Crisis,
Suburban Knight,
The Standells,
Shuggie Otis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Babytalk,
Siglo XX,
The Happenings,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gap Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Flipper,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bob Dylan,
D'Angelo,
Godley & Creme,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rufus Thomas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ten City,
The Stooges,
The Martian,
Panda Bear,
Masters at Work,
Visage,
Groovy Waters,
Joy Division,
Animal Collective,
Big Daddy Kane,
B.T. Express,
Joey Negro,
Supertramp,
Pylon,
T. Rex,
Barclay James Harvest,
Amazonics,
Echospace,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Pop Group,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roxy Music,
Buzzcocks,
Soft Cell,
Brass Construction,
Gabor Szabo,
Neu!,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.