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 Turkey and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 Gang Starr to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ponytail,
Franke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Busters,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Christie,
Lou Reed,
Moebius,
The Electric Prunes,
The Tremeloes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gories,
Derrick Morgan,
The Gladiators,
The Leaves,
Joy Division,
Gang of Four,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yaz,
The Misunderstood,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Max Romeo,
The Moleskins,
Radiohead,
The Neon Judgement,
The Smiths,
Maleditus Sound,
Bad Manners,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thee Headcoats,
Blossom Toes,
Tommy Roe,
Wolf Eyes,
The Sonics,
Scratch Acid,
F. McDonald,
Surgeon,
The Offenders,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vladislav Delay,
Minny Pops,
Urselle,
Malaria!,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Simply Red,
LL Cool J,
Subhumans,
John Holt,
John Cale,
Danielle Patucci,
Y Pants,
Lower 48,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ten City,
The Names,
X-101,
Isaac Hayes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.