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 Haiti and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Skatalites to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
the Human League,
June of 44,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Green,
Amazonics,
Monks,
Sandy B,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Durutti Column,
The Move,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ultra Naté,
Soul II Soul,
Derrick May,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Main Source,
Steve Hackett,
Terry Callier,
The Offenders,
Royal Trux,
Theoretical Girls,
The Sound,
Wire,
The Leaves,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gun Club,
Stetsasonic,
Eve St. Jones,
Liliput,
Johnny Clarke,
Rakim,
The Modern Lovers,
Tom Boy,
48th St. Collective,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barry Ungar,
Inner City,
Lungfish,
AZ,
Bauhaus,
The Doobie Brothers,
New Order,
These Immortal Souls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aural Exciters,
Fad Gadget,
Dark Day,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lucky Dragons,
The Stooges,
Davy DMX,
Hashim,
The Mummies,
Funkadelic,
Nas,
Warsaw,
Talk Talk,
Minny Pops,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Loose Ends,
Rosa Yemen,
Mantronix,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.