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 Bahrain and from Sao Paulo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Quando Quango to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
The Saints,
the Soft Cell,
Brick,
Roger Hodgson,
Simply Red,
Lucky Dragons,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Angry Samoans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Boz Scaggs,
This Heat,
The Index,
CMW,
Prince Buster,
The Victims,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Dolphy,
Agitation Free,
Inner City,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Trojans,
Sugar Minott,
the Germs,
Altered Images,
X-Ray Spex,
Ten City,
Bootsy Collins,
Kevin Saunderson,
New Age Steppers,
Scratch Acid,
ABC,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oblivians,
ABBA,
Average White Band,
The Monks,
Ultra Naté,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lakeside,
LL Cool J,
Monks,
Chris & Cosey,
Lyres,
Quando Quango,
Gerry Rafferty,
Aural Exciters,
Surgeon,
Scrapy,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eden Ahbez,
Desert Stars,
The Zeros,
Lightning Bolt,
F. McDonald,
Alison Limerick,
Skaos,
Gastr Del Sol,
Au Pairs,
Tomorrow,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.