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 Guinea-Bissau and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Saccharine Trust,
Aswad,
Jacob Miller,
The Skatalites,
Max Romeo,
Harmonia,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bluetip,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rapeman,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lucky Dragons,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lou Christie,
Skriet,
David McCallum,
The Beau Brummels,
Spandau Ballet,
The Birthday Party,
Scan 7,
DNA,
One Last Wish,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Depeche Mode,
Cluster,
Pharoah Sanders,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Durutti Column,
Dawn Penn,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Residents,
Monks,
Pere Ubu,
Bang On A Can,
Sister Nancy,
Black Sheep,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Holt,
The Saints,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun City Girls,
The Move,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Count Five,
The Gladiators,
Ken Boothe,
Judy Mowatt,
Television Personalities,
Second Layer,
Steve Hackett,
Lalann,
Ossler,
the Soft Cell,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.