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 Brunei and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Minnie Riperton to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Tom Boy,
Isaac Hayes,
The Five Americans,
The Seeds,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wire,
Icehouse,
The Move,
Jeff Lynne,
Jandek,
Supertramp,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Qualms,
Black Moon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Shuggie Otis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Invisible,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Das Ding,
Tears for Fears,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Deadbeat,
Index,
Johnny Clarke,
Juan Atkins,
June Days,
Wally Richardson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Hardrive,
Morten Harket,
X-101,
T.S.O.L.,
Byron Stingily,
the Germs,
The Fire Engines,
Eli Mardock,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Kinks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Slick Rick,
Kurtis Blow,
Angry Samoans,
China Crisis,
The Walker Brothers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dead C,
Clear Light,
Nico,
Mantronix,
DJ Sneak,
The Toasters,
Kerrie Biddell,
cv313,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mary Jane Girls,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.