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 Ivory Coast and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 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 Parry Music to the techno 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
ABBA,
Scrapy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Accadde A,
Sex Pistols,
Donald Byrd,
John Coltrane,
Crime,
Nirvana,
The Monks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ossler,
Au Pairs,
The Mojo Men,
Lower 48,
Lucky Dragons,
Mr. Review,
Gong,
Cybotron,
Don Cherry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Camberwell Now,
Essential Logic,
Davy DMX,
Lalo Schifrin,
Archie Shepp,
Kenny Larkin,
The Wake,
Faust,
The Moleskins,
the Association,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Patti Smith,
Boredoms,
Harry Pussy,
The Dead C,
Malaria!,
Funkadelic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ronan,
X-101,
Andrew Hill,
X-102,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kurtis Blow,
The Associates,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eli Mardock,
Kerri Chandler,
Minny Pops,
Simply Red,
Soulsonic Force,
The Shadows of Knight,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The United States of America,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.