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 Portugal and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Soft Machine,
John Cale,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Martian,
Tubeway Army,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Zero Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
H. Thieme,
China Crisis,
Grandmaster Flash,
June Days,
The Index,
Model 500,
The Dirtbombs,
Judy Mowatt,
Hoover,
Parry Music,
The Misunderstood,
Sugar Minott,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ohio Players,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Alton Ellis,
Bush Tetras,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lyres,
Negative Approach,
Jeff Lynne,
Aural Exciters,
The Golliwogs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Icehouse,
the Human League,
Wire,
The Divine Comedy,
Soul II Soul,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Morten Harket,
The Walker Brothers,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric Copeland,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cure,
Rekid,
Lindisfarne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scrapy,
The Moody Blues,
Absolute Body Control,
Eric Dolphy,
the Germs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Byron Stingily,
Slick Rick,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.