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 Kiribati and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Evens to the techno 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Peter and Kerry,
Sound Behaviour,
Danielle Patucci,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Black Dice,
Throbbing Gristle,
Saccharine Trust,
Bad Manners,
Chris & Cosey,
Eric B and Rakim,
Judy Mowatt,
The Happenings,
Circle Jerks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minor Threat,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Christie,
Crooked Eye,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
LL Cool J,
The Slits,
The Gun Club,
Mad Mike,
Gichy Dan,
The Modern Lovers,
DNA,
Smog,
The Sonics,
Grey Daturas,
Dark Day,
Black Flag,
Black Pus,
Brothers Johnson,
The Evens,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oneida,
Bootsy Collins,
Pulsallama,
Scan 7,
Neil Young,
Excepter,
Japan,
Brand Nubian,
Altered Images,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Skriet,
Aloha Tigers,
The Velvet Underground,
Bronski Beat,
Pole,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Moleskins,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bush Tetras,
ABC,
Buzzcocks,
The Grass Roots,
The Durutti Column,
Q and Not U,
The Mojo Men,
Moby Grape,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.