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 Norway and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 David Axelrod to the grunge 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
The Grass Roots,
The Divine Comedy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Moon,
Aaron Thompson,
Fela Kuti,
Half Japanese,
The Blackbyrds,
The Slackers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Adolescents,
Lindisfarne,
Warren Ellis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Residents,
Gang Gang Dance,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gong,
Bush Tetras,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alphaville,
Prince Buster,
Smog,
Kayak,
Underground Resistance,
The Cramps,
Jandek,
The Music Machine,
Lightning Bolt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marine Girls,
Cameo,
Pussy Galore,
Supertramp,
Main Source,
The Seeds,
Pantaleimon,
David Axelrod,
June Days,
Lucky Dragons,
The Red Krayola,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eurythmics,
Godley & Creme,
Magazine,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Model 500,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang Green,
The Invisible,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Swans,
Hot Snakes,
48th St. Collective,
Sam Rivers,
Ludus,
AZ,
Trumans Water,
Magma,
Grandmaster Flash,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.