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 Brazil and from Seoul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric Copeland,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Vladislav Delay,
Sparks,
Funkadelic,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fugs,
Soft Machine,
Banda Bassotti,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yazoo,
Mandrill,
Young Marble Giants,
Gabor Szabo,
kango's stein massive,
Pere Ubu,
Pierre Henry,
Goldenarms,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tubeway Army,
Flipper,
U.S. Maple,
Freddie Wadling,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Invisible,
Drexciya,
Essential Logic,
Model 500,
The Blues Magoos,
China Crisis,
Ohio Players,
Flash Fearless,
Boogie Down Productions,
Donald Byrd,
Minnie Riperton,
This Heat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Clear Light,
Howard Jones,
Cymande,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Motions,
Roy Ayers,
Talk Talk,
Danielle Patucci,
The Zeros,
The Gories,
the Fania All-Stars,
Don Cherry,
Absolute Body Control,
Jacques Brel,
Stiv Bators,
Pussy Galore,
Scott Walker,
The Golliwogs,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Royal Trux,
Lakeside,
Rites of Spring,
The Neon Judgement,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.