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 Montenegro and from Bologna.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Robert Palmer 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 One Last Wish to the grunge 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Davy DMX,
Section 25,
Eddi Front,
DJ Sneak,
Judy Mowatt,
48th St. Collective,
Vainqueur,
Ossler,
Depeche Mode,
Max Romeo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tears for Fears,
Maurizio,
L. Decosne,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mo-Dettes,
The Star Department,
Buzzcocks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Pretty Things,
Popol Vuh,
Lower 48,
The Detroit Cobras,
Faust,
Motorama,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sun City Girls,
Steve Hackett,
Arthur Verocai,
Marvin Gaye,
The Durutti Column,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Oneida,
Boredoms,
Alton Ellis,
Slave,
Avey Tare,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Monolake,
JFA,
Massinfluence,
Marshall Jefferson,
Reagan Youth,
Franke,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sight & Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Henry Cow,
Television,
Youth Brigade,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Byrd,
Mr. Review,
Fear,
Stereo Dub,
Darondo,
Ice-T,
Radiohead,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.