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 Dominican Republic and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the techno 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eddi Front,
Flamin' Groovies,
Albert Ayler,
Lebanon Hanover,
AZ,
Andrew Hill,
Terry Callier,
Lucky Dragons,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pylon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Metal Thangz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Dead C,
Arcadia,
Negative Approach,
Wolf Eyes,
E-Dancer,
Youth Brigade,
The Modern Lovers,
Circle Jerks,
The Moody Blues,
The Durutti Column,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Qualms,
Ohio Players,
Deakin,
The Cure,
The Cramps,
Wings,
Prince Buster,
Black Sheep,
Wasted Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Skriet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pantaleimon,
The Kinks,
Essential Logic,
Barry Ungar,
Duran Duran,
Sister Nancy,
Amon Düül II,
Groovy Waters,
World's Most,
Juan Atkins,
Jerry's Kids,
the Association,
Arthur Verocai,
Tres Demented,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cameo,
Jeff Lynne,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.