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 Mali and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 arpeggiator 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Eric Copeland,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fluxion,
Malaria!,
Bob Dylan,
New Age Steppers,
Tom Boy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kerri Chandler,
Ten City,
Mark Hollis,
Smog,
Eurythmics,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Flamin' Groovies,
Archie Shepp,
Con Funk Shun,
These Immortal Souls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Martian,
Newcleus,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Monks,
Gichy Dan,
Yusef Lateef,
Marc Almond,
Yellowson,
cv313,
The Buckinghams,
Mad Mike,
Talk Talk,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Pus,
The Motions,
Robert Görl,
Juan Atkins,
The American Breed,
L. Decosne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jacques Brel,
The Real Kids,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sugar Minott,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hashim,
The Remains,
Nils Olav,
Pierre Henry,
Q and Not U,
The Index,
Pet Shop Boys,
Alice Coltrane,
EPMD,
Roy Ayers,
Zapp,
Desert Stars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
10cc,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.