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 Spain and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Man Parrish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Residents,
Bauhaus,
Arab on Radar,
The Names,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gories,
Crash Course in Science,
Minutemen,
Brothers Johnson,
Tim Buckley,
Tears for Fears,
Minnie Riperton,
Mark Hollis,
The Stooges,
New Order,
Brass Construction,
Television,
Yaz,
Agent Orange,
Desert Stars,
MDC,
The Kinks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Iggy Pop,
The Skatalites,
48th St. Collective,
kango's stein massive,
Wire,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Black Moon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Holt,
Interpol,
The Cramps,
Jacques Brel,
Amazonics,
Liliput,
Section 25,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Buzzcocks,
Camberwell Now,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Letta Mbulu,
Tomorrow,
CMW,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arthur Verocai,
Toni Rubio,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Livin' Joy,
Absolute Body Control,
Con Funk Shun,
Rakim,
David McCallum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.