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 Madagascar and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Hashim to the rock 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Soul II Soul,
A Flock of Seagulls,
L. Decosne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sandy B,
The Last Poets,
The Angels of Light,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Divine Comedy,
the Human League,
Talk Talk,
Fatback Band,
Neil Young,
Ornette Coleman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Adolescents,
Khruangbin,
Model 500,
Scott Walker,
Motorama,
Nik Kershaw,
H. Thieme,
Roy Ayers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bush Tetras,
Aswad,
Shuggie Otis,
The Neon Judgement,
Anthony Braxton,
Faraquet,
Moss Icon,
Spoonie Gee,
Terry Callier,
Glenn Branca,
Hardrive,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tomorrow,
Rakim,
The Cowsills,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kurtis Blow,
Nick Fraelich,
Dual Sessions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fugazi,
Smog,
Arthur Verocai,
Darondo,
Ronan,
Black Moon,
FM Einheit,
Toni Rubio,
Joe Smooth,
Flipper,
Loose Ends,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.