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 Russia and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Parry Music to the punk 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 an organ and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Maurizio,
Bill Wells,
Sugar Minott,
Gang of Four,
Moby Grape,
Los Fastidios,
China Crisis,
Matthew Halsall,
The Leaves,
The Golliwogs,
Television Personalities,
Con Funk Shun,
Minny Pops,
Johnny Clarke,
David Bowie,
Oblivians,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kayak,
Kool Moe Dee,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Banda Bassotti,
John Foxx,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Albert Ayler,
Mad Mike,
Lalann,
Joyce Sims,
Can,
Jeff Lynne,
The Mummies,
Jacques Brel,
Flash Fearless,
Bauhaus,
Au Pairs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soul II Soul,
Sun Ra,
DJ Style,
The Vogues,
Newcleus,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Bananas,
Circle Jerks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Freddie Wadling,
X-101,
Audionom,
Letta Mbulu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
R.M.O.,
John Lydon,
Outsiders,
The Music Machine,
U.S. Maple,
Patti Smith,
Aswad,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.