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 Afghanistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Lou Reed 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 AZ to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Eve St. Jones,
Idris Muhammad,
cv313,
Stetsasonic,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mo-Dettes,
The Trojans,
Steve Hackett,
Malaria!,
Skarface,
The Move,
T.S.O.L.,
ABBA,
Sandy B,
Max Romeo,
Sällskapet,
Pussy Galore,
Crooked Eye,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hoover,
Marshall Jefferson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Infiniti,
Moby Grape,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roy Ayers,
Fat Boys,
Mad Mike,
Wire,
Howard Jones,
Khruangbin,
Marvin Gaye,
48th St. Collective,
Camouflage,
Electric Prunes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Johnny Clarke,
Bootsy Collins,
the Sonics,
The Real Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Amazonics,
Ken Boothe,
Nik Kershaw,
Letta Mbulu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grey Daturas,
Andrew Hill,
Peter and Kerry,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Radio Birdman,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Music Machine,
Vladislav Delay,
Country Teasers,
PIL,
Graham Central Station,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Moebius,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.