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 United States and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro 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 Girls At Our Best! to the crunk 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Marcia Griffiths,
Vainqueur,
Spandau Ballet,
The Blues Magoos,
Sam Rivers,
Maleditus Sound,
Mantronix,
Jacob Miller,
Duran Duran,
Deadbeat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
kango's stein massive,
The Seeds,
Subhumans,
L. Decosne,
Metal Thangz,
Con Funk Shun,
Sister Nancy,
Bush Tetras,
The Monks,
John Holt,
Minny Pops,
LL Cool J,
Oneida,
EPMD,
Masters at Work,
The Skatalites,
Mr. Review,
The American Breed,
Carl Craig,
Morten Harket,
the Germs,
Desert Stars,
Harry Pussy,
OOIOO,
The Mojo Men,
The Blackbyrds,
China Crisis,
The Remains,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Heaven 17,
Nik Kershaw,
The Angels of Light,
Maurizio,
Newcleus,
Fear,
The Trojans,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sonic Youth,
Little Man,
Anthony Braxton,
Blake Baxter,
Soul II Soul,
the Bar-Kays,
Brick,
Rotary Connection,
Black Pus,
The Buckinghams,
Mandrill,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Babytalk,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.