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 Japan and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ossler to the grunge 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
the Slits,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dave Gahan,
Sun Ra,
A Certain Ratio,
Robert Hood,
The Alarm Clocks,
Saccharine Trust,
The Dirtbombs,
The Moody Blues,
Avey Tare,
These Immortal Souls,
Oblivians,
New York Dolls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
Index,
Shoche,
D'Angelo,
Zapp,
Reagan Youth,
Wings,
Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Accadde A,
Nico,
The Raincoats,
Wolf Eyes,
Junior Murvin,
Eric Copeland,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pulsallama,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Spoonie Gee,
Roy Ayers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Byrd,
Quando Quango,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Sherman,
The Remains,
Marmalade,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Metal Thangz,
Clear Light,
Sex Pistols,
Guru Guru,
Johnny Clarke,
Procol Harum,
Grauzone,
Radiohead,
Tears for Fears,
Niagra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Soul II Soul,
The Star Department,
Moebius,
Nas,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.