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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wasted Youth to the rap 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gastr Del Sol,
Drexciya,
Letta Mbulu,
Kurtis Blow,
Charles Mingus,
Brothers Johnson,
Technova,
Neu!,
Boz Scaggs,
The Names,
Funkadelic,
the Soft Cell,
Sex Pistols,
Negative Approach,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mandrill,
Tomorrow,
This Heat,
The Detroit Cobras,
Essential Logic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joy Division,
Scrapy,
Interpol,
The Cure,
Con Funk Shun,
Scion,
The Slits,
Los Fastidios,
Masters at Work,
Visage,
Blossom Toes,
Glenn Branca,
Angry Samoans,
Quantec,
Judy Mowatt,
Alphaville,
The Raincoats,
The Durutti Column,
The Fortunes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Royal Trux,
Oblivians,
Grandmaster Flash,
Robert Wyatt,
Easy Going,
Jeff Mills,
Prince Buster,
Agent Orange,
Yellowson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Darondo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Clear Light,
Ohio Players,
Cybotron,
cv313,
Pere Ubu,
Radio Birdman,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.