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 Czech Republic 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Radio Birdman to the dance 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Trumans Water,
Cameo,
The Angels of Light,
Darondo,
Malaria!,
Khruangbin,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Trojans,
Drexciya,
LL Cool J,
Funkadelic,
Angry Samoans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Radiopuhelimet,
Banda Bassotti,
The Grass Roots,
B.T. Express,
H. Thieme,
The Raincoats,
Scientists,
Lakeside,
Marvin Gaye,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Human League,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bronski Beat,
The Mummies,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Connie Case,
Faraquet,
Gichy Dan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quadrant,
Roy Ayers,
Audionom,
Anakelly,
Lalann,
Bush Tetras,
Simply Red,
Dave Gahan,
AZ,
London Community Gospel Choir,
ABC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Little Man,
Lou Reed,
Unwound,
Yusef Lateef,
Brass Construction,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ken Boothe,
Suburban Knight,
Tropical Tobacco,
MDC,
The Sound,
Al Stewart,
Zapp,
The Pop Group,
Pierre Henry,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.