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 Mauritania and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb 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 Erykah Badu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Eli Mardock,
Bauhaus,
Eric Copeland,
Can,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Swans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kenny Larkin,
Sight & Sound,
F. McDonald,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Moon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Steve Hackett,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
World's Most,
Soulsonic Force,
Don Cherry,
Dave Gahan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Susan Cadogan,
Kas Product,
Main Source,
The Standells,
Pylon,
Mars,
Black Sheep,
Byron Stingily,
The Vogues,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Association,
Television,
Radiopuhelimet,
Suburban Knight,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eddi Front,
Junior Murvin,
Make Up,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nik Kershaw,
Roxette,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Carl Craig,
Crime,
The Black Dice,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Sherman,
Minor Threat,
Crash Course in Science,
Man Parrish,
Niagra,
Prince Buster,
The Leaves,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Velvet Underground,
Amazonics,
The Star Department,
Ohio Players,
Panda Bear,
Josef K,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.