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 Guinea and from Philadelphia.
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 Winnipeg and Houston.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Barracudas to the grime 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
the Swans,
The Gun Club,
Monolake,
The Real Kids,
Moss Icon,
Yaz,
Al Stewart,
Altered Images,
Eve St. Jones,
Ralphi Rosario,
JFA,
Simply Red,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Television Personalities,
Alphaville,
Goldenarms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skaos,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mandrill,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sandy B,
Cheater Slicks,
Soft Cell,
Fear,
Agitation Free,
Sun Ra,
Byron Stingily,
Gabor Szabo,
Hot Snakes,
Ponytail,
Tom Boy,
The Move,
Grey Daturas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David Axelrod,
The Seeds,
Porter Ricks,
the Human League,
The Blackbyrds,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
H. Thieme,
Bad Manners,
U.S. Maple,
The Last Poets,
Loose Ends,
Piero Umiliani,
Rosa Yemen,
Moebius,
John Holt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric Dolphy,
Flipper,
Marcia Griffiths,
Donny Hathaway,
Pagans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.