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 South Africa and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar 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 The Selecter to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
James White and The Blacks,
Freddie Wadling,
Royal Trux,
Country Teasers,
The Saints,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
E-Dancer,
Sällskapet,
Alison Limerick,
Loose Ends,
The Pop Group,
Main Source,
Q and Not U,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Cale,
the Soft Cell,
Byron Stingily,
the Bar-Kays,
PIL,
The Move,
Fugazi,
Laurel Aitken,
Panda Bear,
Howard Jones,
Minor Threat,
Funky Four + One,
Bad Manners,
the Swans,
Yazoo,
David Axelrod,
MDC,
Joey Negro,
Bill Wells,
The Misunderstood,
Skaos,
Suicide,
Sex Pistols,
Television Personalities,
Sound Behaviour,
Kenny Larkin,
Yaz,
Thee Headcoats,
Idris Muhammad,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Trumans Water,
Reagan Youth,
Technova,
The Velvet Underground,
Joyce Sims,
Los Fastidios,
Essential Logic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Young Rascals,
Archie Shepp,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Q65,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.