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 Netherlands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Anakelly to the grime 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Excepter,
Terry Callier,
Kenny Larkin,
Lungfish,
Derrick May,
Connie Case,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lee Hazlewood,
Monolake,
Intrusion,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
48th St. Collective,
John Coltrane,
The Pretty Things,
Joy Division,
Q and Not U,
Don Cherry,
Motorama,
Steve Hackett,
Circle Jerks,
Ornette Coleman,
Desert Stars,
X-102,
Lalo Schifrin,
Angry Samoans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Camouflage,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Offenders,
Judy Mowatt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Young Rascals,
Subhumans,
The Black Dice,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Depeche Mode,
The Count Five,
Chris Corsano,
Schoolly D,
Alison Limerick,
Bill Wells,
David Axelrod,
X-Ray Spex,
F. McDonald,
Marvin Gaye,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fluxion,
Dennis Brown,
The Monks,
Sex Pistols,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sugar Minott,
10cc,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Reuben Wilson,
Franke,
R.M.O.,
The Modern Lovers,
Pulsallama,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.