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 Namibia and from London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Man Eating Sloth to the techno 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Joe Finger,
Mars,
Babytalk,
The Alarm Clocks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jacob Miller,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Q65,
Stiv Bators,
JFA,
The Kinks,
Sparks,
Kool Moe Dee,
New Order,
Tomorrow,
The Saints,
Desert Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dirtbombs,
Albert Ayler,
Eden Ahbez,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Normal,
Mr. Review,
The Techniques,
Make Up,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Zapp,
Delon & Dalcan,
Neu!,
Audionom,
Gastr Del Sol,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Golliwogs,
The Fortunes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minutemen,
Terry Callier,
Lakeside,
The Pop Group,
Pantytec,
The Fall,
Aloha Tigers,
The Stooges,
Scratch Acid,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott Heron,
New Age Steppers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Aaron Thompson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Japan,
A Certain Ratio,
Con Funk Shun,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.