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 Somalia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pharoah Sanders to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lou Christie,
Banda Bassotti,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dawn Penn,
Yellowson,
Eden Ahbez,
The Selecter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dead C,
Funkadelic,
Sister Nancy,
the Slits,
Angry Samoans,
Duran Duran,
Slave,
Kerri Chandler,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fugs,
the Soft Cell,
Gastr Del Sol,
The New Christs,
Franke,
Von Mondo,
Joe Finger,
Black Moon,
Yazoo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Warren Ellis,
The Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Invisible,
Laurel Aitken,
New Age Steppers,
Cluster,
June Days,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Moody Blues,
Charles Mingus,
The Offenders,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Human League,
Whodini,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bill Near,
Carl Craig,
Circle Jerks,
Quantec,
Porter Ricks,
Nirvana,
Popol Vuh,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Foxx,
Tim Buckley,
Max Romeo,
Jeff Lynne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sex Pistols,
Scrapy,
Don Cherry,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.