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 Guinea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 The Beau Brummels to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Star Department,
Aural Exciters,
T. Rex,
Yusef Lateef,
Underground Resistance,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Qualms,
Brand Nubian,
Pulsallama,
Icehouse,
Masters at Work,
Tres Demented,
Eric B and Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fat Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Amon Düül II,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Motions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Idris Muhammad,
Joe Smooth,
The Mojo Men,
Bobby Byrd,
Boredoms,
Slick Rick,
Accadde A,
Bizarre Inc.,
La Düsseldorf,
Circle Jerks,
Sugar Minott,
Echospace,
Kool Moe Dee,
Al Stewart,
Y Pants,
Letta Mbulu,
Arthur Verocai,
Shoche,
Radiopuhelimet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
Infiniti,
New Order,
FM Einheit,
Cal Tjader,
The Fortunes,
Anakelly,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sällskapet,
Pylon,
David Axelrod,
The Names,
The Tremeloes,
Camouflage,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.