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 Guinea and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Joey Negro to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
The Angels of Light,
Guru Guru,
Neu!,
Toni Rubio,
The Moleskins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Massinfluence,
Ponytail,
Aloha Tigers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Maurizio,
Danielle Patucci,
The Vogues,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Godley & Creme,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Parry Music,
John Holt,
AZ,
Dark Day,
Don Cherry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Motions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pole,
The Mojo Men,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crash Course in Science,
U.S. Maple,
Eve St. Jones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Section 25,
Tubeway Army,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Walker Brothers,
Newcleus,
Jawbox,
Maleditus Sound,
Monks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Derrick May,
Icehouse,
Lebanon Hanover,
Albert Ayler,
Lungfish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Moby Grape,
The Sonics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soulsonic Force,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Half Japanese,
The Fuzztones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nico,
Mark Hollis,
Soft Machine,
Amon Düül,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.