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 Nicaragua and from Accra.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 The Five Americans to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Electric Prunes,
Kayak,
Depeche Mode,
Nils Olav,
Scan 7,
Michelle Simonal,
Magma,
The Trojans,
Delta 5,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scientists,
Whodini,
Ronan,
Amazonics,
Ultravox,
The Misunderstood,
Groovy Waters,
The J.B.'s,
The Star Department,
Sam Rivers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Unrelated Segments,
Ossler,
Camberwell Now,
The Busters,
Silicon Teens,
Shuggie Otis,
The Litter,
Funky Four + One,
Yaz,
E-Dancer,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Stetsasonic,
John Lydon,
Bluetip,
Connie Case,
Talk Talk,
The Young Rascals,
Black Flag,
Bobby Womack,
Franke,
Ituana,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
LL Cool J,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blancmange,
Mantronix,
Scratch Acid,
Minny Pops,
The Victims,
Easy Going,
Lindisfarne,
Roxy Music,
Eli Mardock,
Agitation Free,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mummies,
The United States of America,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tommy Roe,
David Axelrod,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.