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 Ghana and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 theremin 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 Donald Byrd to the jazz 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
the Bar-Kays,
Cluster,
The Motions,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Quadrant,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Siglo XX,
Pierre Henry,
Warsaw,
The Victims,
Arab on Radar,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barbara Tucker,
David Bowie,
Outsiders,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Barracudas,
Suicide,
The Grass Roots,
June of 44,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Standells,
Buzzcocks,
Fear,
Flipper,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Absolute Body Control,
The Cowsills,
Lindisfarne,
Todd Terry,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Parry Music,
Al Stewart,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Steve Hackett,
PIL,
Minny Pops,
Robert Görl,
Joe Finger,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ossler,
Fad Gadget,
Leonard Cohen,
Jawbox,
Black Flag,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dark Day,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
Tom Boy,
Marc Almond,
Gabor Szabo,
Cymande,
The Count Five,
Negative Approach,
The Moody Blues,
Little Man,
The American Breed,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.