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 Guatemala and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba 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 Harry Pussy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Residents,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Liliput,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bootsy Collins,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gun Club,
Johnny Osbourne,
Suicide,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roger Hodgson,
Glenn Branca,
The Raincoats,
Youth Brigade,
The Mojo Men,
Black Sheep,
Organ,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cameo,
Slick Rick,
Thee Headcoats,
Rosa Yemen,
Flamin' Groovies,
Smog,
X-101,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sun Ra,
The Grass Roots,
LL Cool J,
Bronski Beat,
Cal Tjader,
Public Image Ltd.,
Henry Cow,
Camberwell Now,
Crash Course in Science,
The Techniques,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lower 48,
Dennis Brown,
Ultra Naté,
Pet Shop Boys,
Das Ding,
Scott Walker,
Q and Not U,
Moebius,
Motorama,
Cybotron,
Roy Ayers,
Fatback Band,
Average White Band,
The Music Machine,
Barclay James Harvest,
Section 25,
Donald Byrd,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Buckinghams,
Hot Snakes,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.