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 Madagascar and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Delhi.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 John Coltrane to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord 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 chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Jeff Lynne,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Barracudas,
This Heat,
John Lydon,
Alton Ellis,
Fatback Band,
U.S. Maple,
Carl Craig,
The Tremeloes,
Scan 7,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harry Pussy,
Zero Boys,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tomorrow,
China Crisis,
Tres Demented,
Hardrive,
Colin Newman,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kas Product,
Absolute Body Control,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Pretty Things,
Ronnie Foster,
Aswad,
Joe Smooth,
Marmalade,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dead Boys,
Ohio Players,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Trojans,
Nas,
Fad Gadget,
The Index,
Sex Pistols,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Clear Light,
Bob Dylan,
Al Stewart,
Bobbi Humphrey,
ABC,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alice Coltrane,
Lalo Schifrin,
R.M.O.,
The Mojo Men,
Oblivians,
Duran Duran,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.