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 El Salvador and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator 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 Bobby Byrd to the funk 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Severed Heads,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rotary Connection,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Byrd,
The Moody Blues,
The Star Department,
The Flesh Eaters,
Max Romeo,
48th St. Collective,
La Düsseldorf,
Maurizio,
Crash Course in Science,
Howard Jones,
Fatback Band,
Motorama,
DJ Sneak,
Mo-Dettes,
Nik Kershaw,
Roy Ayers,
The Remains,
Black Sheep,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bootsy Collins,
Amon Düül II,
Outsiders,
Robert Görl,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Scott Walker,
Black Bananas,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wolf Eyes,
Pagans,
Tropical Tobacco,
MC5,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Soft Cell,
Morten Harket,
Cecil Taylor,
Joyce Sims,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soft Machine,
Sight & Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dave Clark Five,
Arcadia,
Bill Near,
Prince Buster,
Public Enemy,
The Count Five,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Angels of Light,
Circle Jerks,
The Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
The Offenders,
A Certain Ratio,
Negative Approach,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.