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 Canada and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gil Scott Heron to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Popol Vuh,
FM Einheit,
Smog,
Jeru the Damaja,
Peter & Gordon,
Altered Images,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ice-T,
Maurizio,
Joyce Sims,
Rod Modell,
Malaria!,
Blossom Toes,
X-Ray Spex,
Kaleidoscope,
Joe Finger,
The Walker Brothers,
Visage,
Pet Shop Boys,
Newcleus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kenny Larkin,
Monks,
Quantec,
Pussy Galore,
The Golliwogs,
Slave,
E-Dancer,
Idris Muhammad,
Carl Craig,
Matthew Bourne,
Minnie Riperton,
The Buckinghams,
Ken Boothe,
Sight & Sound,
China Crisis,
The Zeros,
The American Breed,
MC5,
CMW,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Flag,
Marvin Gaye,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cameo,
The Martian,
The Selecter,
Hasil Adkins,
Soulsonic Force,
Neil Young,
Cheater Slicks,
Quadrant,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Sherman,
Sam Rivers,
Intrusion,
Delta 5,
Oneida,
Soul II Soul,
T. Rex,
Dark Day,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.