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 Brunei and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Boz Scaggs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Slackers,
Quando Quango,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Magazine,
Kerrie Biddell,
Negative Approach,
Faraquet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kas Product,
Kayak,
Pulsallama,
Unwound,
Icehouse,
EPMD,
Max Romeo,
Ten City,
The Gun Club,
Terry Callier,
Fela Kuti,
Camberwell Now,
Charles Mingus,
The Fall,
Jacques Brel,
The Beau Brummels,
Johnny Clarke,
The Moleskins,
Alton Ellis,
Electric Prunes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lindisfarne,
Theoretical Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
R.M.O.,
Minny Pops,
The Modern Lovers,
World's Most,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
LL Cool J,
Lucky Dragons,
Swell Maps,
Vainqueur,
Lou Christie,
Livin' Joy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bluetip,
Porter Ricks,
Roxette,
A Certain Ratio,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.