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 Paraguay and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar 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 F. McDonald to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Bad Manners,
Ultra Naté,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tom Boy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yazoo,
Radiohead,
the Human League,
Junior Murvin,
The Moody Blues,
Lalann,
Janne Schatter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dawn Penn,
Moebius,
Harry Pussy,
The Music Machine,
Jeff Mills,
Derrick May,
R.M.O.,
Little Man,
Brick,
Pagans,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Underground Resistance,
Brass Construction,
The Doors,
Black Bananas,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pylon,
Gabor Szabo,
Dennis Brown,
Khruangbin,
Gang Starr,
Neu!,
Circle Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
Oneida,
The Cramps,
Angry Samoans,
Agent Orange,
Qualms,
Mad Mike,
Ronnie Foster,
Johnny Clarke,
Motorama,
Crash Course in Science,
Lightning Bolt,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Section 25,
Althea and Donna,
Ken Boothe,
Deakin,
The Pop Group,
Morten Harket,
The Human League,
Fear,
Roy Ayers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pere Ubu,
Howard Jones,
Mo-Dettes,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.