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 Argentina and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba 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 Thompson Twins 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Shuggie Otis,
The Doors,
Eric Copeland,
Duran Duran,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scrapy,
The Remains,
R.M.O.,
Zapp,
Wasted Youth,
Yellowson,
E-Dancer,
Johnny Clarke,
Prince Buster,
Sam Rivers,
Bad Manners,
Television Personalities,
Nico,
the Normal,
Eric B and Rakim,
The United States of America,
Sexual Harrassment,
DNA,
Terrestrial Tones,
Camouflage,
Suicide,
X-102,
Blake Baxter,
Fluxion,
Quantec,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dawn Penn,
Brand Nubian,
Carl Craig,
Joe Smooth,
Pierre Henry,
The Slits,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fortunes,
The Golliwogs,
Malaria!,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Popol Vuh,
Morten Harket,
The Gap Band,
Fear,
Public Enemy,
Slave,
Nils Olav,
Hasil Adkins,
The Modern Lovers,
Erasure,
The Birthday Party,
Rod Modell,
Pole,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kerri Chandler,
Joensuu 1685,
Rotary Connection,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.