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 Italy and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Barbara Tucker,
Alton Ellis,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Echospace,
D'Angelo,
The Vogues,
Ultra Naté,
MC5,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Procol Harum,
H. Thieme,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Carl Craig,
Black Flag,
Moss Icon,
The Cure,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Beau Brummels,
The Raincoats,
The Fugs,
Thee Headcoats,
kango's stein massive,
a-ha,
Leonard Cohen,
OOIOO,
Fear,
Joe Smooth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Index,
John Foxx,
Cheater Slicks,
Scott Walker,
Sound Behaviour,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Normal,
Eric Copeland,
ABC,
The Shadows of Knight,
Skaos,
Television Personalities,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hardrive,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
Harry Pussy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Moby Grape,
the Association,
Ossler,
Monolake,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Quantec,
Amon Düül II,
Alison Limerick,
X-102,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Unwound,
Intrusion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.