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 Yemen and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 linndrum 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Divine Comedy,
Moss Icon,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roy Ayers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arab on Radar,
China Crisis,
Basic Channel,
Sister Nancy,
The Pretty Things,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Electric Prunes,
DNA,
Roger Hodgson,
Bluetip,
The Red Krayola,
Flipper,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Section 25,
The Skatalites,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Dead C,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jandek,
Amazonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Laurel Aitken,
OOIOO,
Tomorrow,
Simply Red,
ABC,
Harry Pussy,
Quadrant,
The Toasters,
Charles Mingus,
Joy Division,
Lindisfarne,
Derrick Morgan,
Chris Corsano,
Eve St. Jones,
Godley & Creme,
Joey Negro,
The Fortunes,
Camouflage,
The Kinks,
Moebius,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sugar Minott,
Ronnie Foster,
Radio Birdman,
The Victims,
Iggy Pop,
R.M.O.,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.