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 Bahamas and from Mexico City.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande 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?
The Kinks,
The Blackbyrds,
The Techniques,
Mr. Review,
Hot Snakes,
Eli Mardock,
Basic Channel,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Parry Music,
The Electric Prunes,
Half Japanese,
Jacob Miller,
Crash Course in Science,
Zapp,
Flipper,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Cure,
Matthew Bourne,
Audionom,
Jeru the Damaja,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Visage,
The Doors,
Agitation Free,
Main Source,
Monolake,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Howard Jones,
Suicide,
Unwound,
New Order,
Alison Limerick,
The Last Poets,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Monks,
Bootsy Collins,
Juan Atkins,
The Buckinghams,
Faust,
The Cramps,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Womack,
The Moleskins,
The Litter,
48th St. Collective,
Simply Red,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tom Boy,
Easy Going,
Dead Boys,
Chris & Cosey,
Glambeats Corp.,
Godley & Creme,
Zero Boys,
The Monks,
The Music Machine,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.