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 Saudi Arabia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sugar Minott to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Unwound,
Nas,
Pussy Galore,
Terrestrial Tones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sixth Finger,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Reagan Youth,
The Real Kids,
Jacques Brel,
Letta Mbulu,
CMW,
Ronnie Foster,
Cecil Taylor,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Godley & Creme,
Glambeats Corp.,
Alice Coltrane,
Y Pants,
Visage,
Motorama,
Deakin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
Donny Hathaway,
Television,
Accadde A,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ken Boothe,
Malaria!,
The Wake,
The Searchers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeru the Damaja,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Make Up,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Anakelly,
Ossler,
Bauhaus,
The Slackers,
Harry Pussy,
Animal Collective,
David Bowie,
Crispian St. Peters,
OOIOO,
Echospace,
Scott Walker,
Harmonia,
The Walker Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
Tommy Roe,
Jawbox,
Infiniti,
Sugar Minott,
Henry Cow,
Gichy Dan,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.