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 Mexico and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Electric Prunes to the rap 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Wolf Eyes,
Pylon,
Organ,
Marvin Gaye,
Lindisfarne,
Monks,
Easy Going,
Spoonie Gee,
Echospace,
The Gap Band,
the Sonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Moody Blues,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Agent Orange,
Amon Düül II,
The Velvet Underground,
Livin' Joy,
The Cure,
Donald Byrd,
The Walker Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
Henry Cow,
Quantec,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scion,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jacob Miller,
The Real Kids,
Niagra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Moon,
The Buckinghams,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
10cc,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
Stiv Bators,
Iggy Pop,
Eve St. Jones,
Talk Talk,
Trumans Water,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Funkadelic,
Gang Green,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Evens,
The Slits,
David McCallum,
Hashim,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.