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 Mozambique 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the punk 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Motorama,
Sam Rivers,
Basic Channel,
Ornette Coleman,
Scion,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barbara Tucker,
Lower 48,
Black Flag,
Laurel Aitken,
DJ Style,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Janne Schatter,
Technova,
Pantytec,
Radiohead,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Swans,
Fear,
The Saints,
Japan,
Ice-T,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Connie Case,
The Pop Group,
Section 25,
Morten Harket,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Derrick May,
Sarah Menescal,
Nils Olav,
Reuben Wilson,
Dark Day,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fugazi,
The Victims,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cybotron,
Todd Rundgren,
Stockholm Monsters,
A Certain Ratio,
The Sonics,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Camberwell Now,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pantaleimon,
Stetsasonic,
Sight & Sound,
Skarface,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gladiators,
Nico,
Essential Logic,
New Age Steppers,
Excepter,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Slackers,
Brand Nubian,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.