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 Ecuador and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron 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 Roy Ayers to the crunk 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Todd Terry,
the Soft Cell,
Dark Day,
Blossom Toes,
Rapeman,
Eden Ahbez,
Marcia Griffiths,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Smoke,
Anakelly,
Masters at Work,
Lalann,
Essential Logic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ten City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Man Parrish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Interpol,
The Residents,
Joey Negro,
The Young Rascals,
Whodini,
The Gladiators,
Country Teasers,
Mr. Review,
Hoover,
Bill Near,
Maurizio,
Crispian St. Peters,
Inner City,
John Coltrane,
Rosa Yemen,
The Kinks,
Laurel Aitken,
The Pretty Things,
Eric B and Rakim,
Zapp,
Pere Ubu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Chris Corsano,
Deepchord,
Peter and Kerry,
Drive Like Jehu,
Oblivians,
The Fuzztones,
Hashim,
ABBA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Susan Cadogan,
Brothers Johnson,
The Walker Brothers,
Simply Red,
Nico,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kaleidoscope,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.