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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 organ 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 Scratch Acid to the disco 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Ten City,
The Music Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Junior Murvin,
June Days,
Kayak,
OOIOO,
Aaron Thompson,
Fad Gadget,
Flipper,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Monochrome Set,
Idris Muhammad,
Man Eating Sloth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rapeman,
The Saints,
Kenny Larkin,
The Offenders,
Niagra,
The Five Americans,
Trumans Water,
Prince Buster,
Marc Almond,
Tom Boy,
The Cramps,
DNA,
Deakin,
Anthony Braxton,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Index,
Bobby Womack,
The Doors,
Zapp,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
David Bowie,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Slackers,
Rosa Yemen,
Gabor Szabo,
10cc,
Animal Collective,
Los Fastidios,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Sherman,
Boz Scaggs,
The Red Krayola,
Eddi Front,
Funkadelic,
Delon & Dalcan,
Talk Talk,
Royal Trux,
Saccharine Trust,
The Kinks,
The Residents,
Soft Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.