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 Benin and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Doobie Brothers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rapeman,
Swell Maps,
Deadbeat,
The Fuzztones,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nirvana,
Y Pants,
Pantaleimon,
Jacob Miller,
Lindisfarne,
Iggy Pop,
Gang of Four,
Ohio Players,
Barrington Levy,
Marvin Gaye,
The Evens,
Bauhaus,
World's Most,
Derrick Morgan,
Yaz,
The Toasters,
Tubeway Army,
Mars,
Dark Day,
The Doors,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dirtbombs,
the Bar-Kays,
China Crisis,
Severed Heads,
Eyeless In Gaza,
David Bowie,
The United States of America,
Sight & Sound,
L. Decosne,
Nico,
Jeff Lynne,
Ludus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Pus,
The Modern Lovers,
Soulsonic Force,
Flipper,
The Gories,
Eddi Front,
Soul II Soul,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
H. Thieme,
Q and Not U,
Fear,
Masters at Work,
Outsiders,
the Normal,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sällskapet,
Morten Harket,
Rekid,
Peter and Kerry,
Danielle Patucci,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.