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 Latvia and from Calgary.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 Sonny Sharrock to the grime 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Amon Düül II,
The Birthday Party,
Deakin,
The Zeros,
Ohio Players,
The Cowsills,
Black Pus,
A Certain Ratio,
The Modern Lovers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
PIL,
Skarface,
Bill Wells,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bluetip,
Kenny Larkin,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Saints,
Johnny Clarke,
Das Ding,
Charles Mingus,
Arab on Radar,
Minnie Riperton,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Suicide,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Average White Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sun City Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Big Daddy Kane,
Traffic Nightmare,
ABC,
Arcadia,
Pantaleimon,
Scientists,
Radio Birdman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alice Coltrane,
Delta 5,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Evens,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Patti Smith,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nirvana,
Q65,
X-101,
Gong,
Cal Tjader,
Talk Talk,
Gregory Isaacs,
Oblivians,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alphaville,
The J.B.'s,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.