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 Maldives and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Hoover to the techno 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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Henry Cow,
Negative Approach,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Y Pants,
The Mummies,
DJ Sneak,
Grey Daturas,
The Divine Comedy,
Panda Bear,
Arab on Radar,
Pantytec,
Ituana,
U.S. Maple,
Black Moon,
Bill Near,
Lucky Dragons,
Todd Terry,
Pylon,
Dennis Brown,
Don Cherry,
Crime,
Byron Stingily,
Agent Orange,
Funky Four + One,
The Victims,
Freddie Wadling,
Scion,
Pole,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nick Fraelich,
John Foxx,
Sixth Finger,
Inner City,
The Motions,
The Beau Brummels,
Johnny Clarke,
Heaven 17,
Second Layer,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minny Pops,
The Young Rascals,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Al Stewart,
Qualms,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Flag,
Severed Heads,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Litter,
Rapeman,
Max Romeo,
Q and Not U,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bluetip,
Intrusion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Arthur Verocai,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare,
The Sound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.