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 Mozambique and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Lagos and Mexico City.
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 mellotron 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 The Gun Club to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Yazoo,
Goldenarms,
Magma,
Thee Headcoats,
Con Funk Shun,
The Vogues,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Henry Cow,
Masters at Work,
Max Romeo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eve St. Jones,
Ronnie Foster,
Icehouse,
Smog,
Ituana,
Niagra,
Barrington Levy,
Zero Boys,
The Residents,
Sister Nancy,
Althea and Donna,
Cecil Taylor,
Jandek,
Jeff Lynne,
A Certain Ratio,
Radio Birdman,
Warren Ellis,
Q65,
Au Pairs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Offenders,
The Gladiators,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Siglo XX,
Swell Maps,
Accadde A,
Dennis Brown,
Duran Duran,
Dave Gahan,
Echospace,
Rufus Thomas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pet Shop Boys,
World's Most,
Byron Stingily,
Cal Tjader,
The Mummies,
Don Cherry,
Can,
Lakeside,
Moby Grape,
R.M.O.,
Black Flag,
the Germs,
Jacques Brel,
Sonic Youth,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.