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 Austria and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Television Personalities to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Todd Rundgren,
Liliput,
Roxy Music,
Kool Moe Dee,
Skaos,
Lightning Bolt,
Panda Bear,
Howard Jones,
The Slackers,
Dual Sessions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
kango's stein massive,
The Monks,
Pagans,
Aaron Thompson,
Harry Pussy,
Little Man,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wally Richardson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Circle Jerks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dawn Penn,
Duran Duran,
the Bar-Kays,
Johnny Osbourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
One Last Wish,
Harmonia,
Franke,
The Moleskins,
The Kinks,
The Residents,
Maurizio,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kerri Chandler,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pharoah Sanders,
Agent Orange,
Black Moon,
The New Christs,
Bill Wells,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pulsallama,
The Fuzztones,
Chris Corsano,
Soft Cell,
Warsaw,
Infiniti,
Blake Baxter,
Agitation Free,
Cheater Slicks,
Electric Prunes,
MC5,
Mad Mike,
The Walker Brothers,
Kayak,
Talk Talk,
Crispy Ambulance,
Echospace,
Metal Thangz,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.