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 Tunisia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nils Olav 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '80s 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 Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Pagans,
Blake Baxter,
Archie Shepp,
Johnny Clarke,
Colin Newman,
Angry Samoans,
The Fuzztones,
The Divine Comedy,
Wire,
Rapeman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eric Copeland,
Lungfish,
Index,
Sixth Finger,
The Sonics,
Con Funk Shun,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arab on Radar,
Minor Threat,
Maurizio,
Reagan Youth,
Mandrill,
Josef K,
Scratch Acid,
Liliput,
Bobby Womack,
Technova,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jeff Mills,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-Ray Spex,
June of 44,
the Soft Cell,
Ultravox,
Aaron Thompson,
Procol Harum,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Germs,
Monks,
Flash Fearless,
Fugazi,
Brand Nubian,
Little Man,
Scion,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Idris Muhammad,
Boredoms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
T. Rex,
Connie Case,
Popol Vuh,
Ponytail,
A Certain Ratio,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sound,
The Count Five,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Cale,
The Birthday Party,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.