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 Comoros and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jesper Dahlback 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Joey Negro,
Lyres,
Grauzone,
Agent Orange,
48th St. Collective,
The Doors,
The Flesh Eaters,
Excepter,
Soul II Soul,
The Electric Prunes,
Brick,
Jeff Mills,
The Golliwogs,
The Blackbyrds,
Patti Smith,
Suburban Knight,
Parry Music,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
X-101,
The Names,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jacob Miller,
Archie Shepp,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric B and Rakim,
Funky Four + One,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slick Rick,
R.M.O.,
Ituana,
Sun City Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marmalade,
The Misunderstood,
Livin' Joy,
T.S.O.L.,
New Order,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kerri Chandler,
Electric Prunes,
Outsiders,
Country Teasers,
The Smiths,
Essential Logic,
Ultravox,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dual Sessions,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Pussy Galore,
Absolute Body Control,
Alice Coltrane,
Schoolly D,
The Gladiators,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.