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 Guatemala and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Gastr Del Sol to the rock 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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
June of 44,
The Victims,
Infiniti,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Holt,
Barry Ungar,
Pantaleimon,
Lalann,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Max Romeo,
Aaron Thompson,
Agitation Free,
Camouflage,
Ultimate Spinach,
Toni Rubio,
Faraquet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Echospace,
Sixth Finger,
the Association,
Hashim,
Essential Logic,
Cybotron,
Neil Young,
Scott Walker,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Dead C,
the Human League,
Accadde A,
The Star Department,
Magma,
Thee Headcoats,
Idris Muhammad,
the Fania All-Stars,
B.T. Express,
Marine Girls,
Bauhaus,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fear,
K-Klass,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ten City,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Martian,
The Blues Magoos,
Morten Harket,
Alice Coltrane,
The Wake,
New Order,
Blake Baxter,
Television Personalities,
Al Stewart,
The Vogues,
Panda Bear,
Erykah Badu,
Piero Umiliani,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marvin Gaye,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.