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 Egypt and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Blues Magoos to the rock 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Japan,
Gang of Four,
Donny Hathaway,
a-ha,
PIL,
10cc,
MC5,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric Copeland,
Graham Central Station,
The Zeros,
The Music Machine,
Deadbeat,
Excepter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Red Krayola,
Kenny Larkin,
Masters at Work,
Television,
Spoonie Gee,
Brand Nubian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alphaville,
Surgeon,
Flipper,
Eyeless In Gaza,
B.T. Express,
The Star Department,
The Monks,
Buzzcocks,
Gabor Szabo,
Bauhaus,
James White and The Blacks,
The Black Dice,
L. Decosne,
The Monochrome Set,
Tommy Roe,
Jacques Brel,
Young Marble Giants,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Minor Threat,
Lungfish,
Alice Coltrane,
Fela Kuti,
The New Christs,
Sarah Menescal,
Lakeside,
Nik Kershaw,
Wally Richardson,
Charles Mingus,
Wings,
Pagans,
Organ,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.