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 Solomon Islands and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 T.S.O.L. to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Cecil Taylor,
Alton Ellis,
The Names,
Ituana,
Lebanon Hanover,
Erykah Badu,
Fat Boys,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
EPMD,
These Immortal Souls,
Goldenarms,
Unwound,
The Tremeloes,
the Germs,
Marvin Gaye,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Leaves,
T.S.O.L.,
The Moody Blues,
Faraquet,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Byrd,
Mandrill,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Buzzcocks,
Mad Mike,
Average White Band,
The Move,
Main Source,
Stiv Bators,
Royal Trux,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Cale,
Aswad,
The Gladiators,
The Smoke,
David Axelrod,
Supertramp,
Mantronix,
Black Sheep,
cv313,
June Days,
Rod Modell,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ken Boothe,
The Vogues,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wolf Eyes,
Avey Tare,
Spandau Ballet,
Dual Sessions,
Mary Jane Girls,
Darondo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Q and Not U,
Bootsy Collins,
Gong,
Mars,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.