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 Tonga and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb 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 Kevin Saunderson to the grime 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Judy Mowatt,
Magma,
Pulsallama,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Darondo,
the Germs,
Stiv Bators,
The Saints,
Minny Pops,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Yaz,
Vladislav Delay,
Joe Finger,
Yusef Lateef,
Bronski Beat,
Man Parrish,
Alice Coltrane,
Pylon,
Dual Sessions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crash Course in Science,
Aswad,
Patti Smith,
The Index,
Lakeside,
Ken Boothe,
Ronnie Foster,
Anakelly,
Slick Rick,
Ice-T,
Wolf Eyes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Steve Hackett,
Delta 5,
Public Image Ltd.,
Graham Central Station,
The Flesh Eaters,
MDC,
Crime,
Spoonie Gee,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Starr,
R.M.O.,
Terry Callier,
The Angels of Light,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Desert Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Gories,
Nation of Ulysses,
Saccharine Trust,
Marshall Jefferson,
The American Breed,
Y Pants,
Fat Boys,
Bill Near,
Swans,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.