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 Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ice-T to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Letta Mbulu,
Ice-T,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Association,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Freddie Wadling,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Althea and Donna,
One Last Wish,
Rites of Spring,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mummies,
Q65,
Silicon Teens,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Bananas,
Gabor Szabo,
Porter Ricks,
Archie Shepp,
Jesper Dahlback,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Little Man,
Zero Boys,
Q and Not U,
Blake Baxter,
Procol Harum,
The Monks,
The Moody Blues,
Lower 48,
Dawn Penn,
The Dave Clark Five,
Icehouse,
Man Eating Sloth,
Davy DMX,
Animal Collective,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mad Mike,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Womack,
The Modern Lovers,
Aural Exciters,
Theoretical Girls,
EPMD,
Todd Rundgren,
Eric Dolphy,
Yellowson,
Soft Machine,
The Busters,
Morten Harket,
Magazine,
UT,
Minnie Riperton,
The Young Rascals,
Sister Nancy,
Alton Ellis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.