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 Greece and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
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 clarinet 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 Andrew Hill to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Dennis Brown,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jawbox,
The Walker Brothers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eric B and Rakim,
FM Einheit,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
EPMD,
Bootsy Collins,
David Bowie,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
D'Angelo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joey Negro,
Tommy Roe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pole,
Blake Baxter,
Motorama,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Albert Ayler,
Crime,
Tom Boy,
Warren Ellis,
Pussy Galore,
Mars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sight & Sound,
X-101,
Brand Nubian,
Steve Hackett,
Laurel Aitken,
Marmalade,
Alice Coltrane,
Roger Hodgson,
Peter and Kerry,
Television,
Carl Craig,
Jerry's Kids,
Cybotron,
The Fortunes,
Quando Quango,
OOIOO,
The Happenings,
Black Moon,
Tomorrow,
Japan,
The Blackbyrds,
Infiniti,
The Techniques,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Al Stewart,
The Moody Blues,
Derrick Morgan,
Faraquet,
Bang On A Can,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Swans,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.