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 Mali and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pretty Things to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Neu!. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Warsaw,
Brand Nubian,
The Dead C,
Connie Case,
DJ Style,
Grauzone,
Guru Guru,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nirvana,
Quadrant,
James White and The Blacks,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Remains,
F. McDonald,
John Lydon,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joe Finger,
Alton Ellis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DNA,
The Residents,
Sugar Minott,
Gang Starr,
The Five Americans,
Con Funk Shun,
Barrington Levy,
Aswad,
Trumans Water,
Q and Not U,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Womack,
the Human League,
Henry Cow,
Terry Callier,
Soft Cell,
Tomorrow,
Organ,
Reagan Youth,
Heaven 17,
Second Layer,
Aloha Tigers,
Morten Harket,
the Soft Cell,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New Order,
Blossom Toes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Metal Thangz,
Flipper,
Janne Schatter,
Matthew Bourne,
the Swans,
Average White Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Agent Orange,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.