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 Argentina and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 DJ Style to the electroclash 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Aloha Tigers,
Crime,
The Durutti Column,
Blake Baxter,
Rod Modell,
DJ Sneak,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marmalade,
Von Mondo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mo-Dettes,
Hardrive,
Harry Pussy,
Yellowson,
Charles Mingus,
Donny Hathaway,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Walker Brothers,
Eddi Front,
Barclay James Harvest,
Iggy Pop,
Skriet,
Wally Richardson,
Youth Brigade,
Don Cherry,
Sugar Minott,
Ponytail,
The Gun Club,
Can,
Fatback Band,
Rotary Connection,
PIL,
Grey Daturas,
Spoonie Gee,
Ohio Players,
Blancmange,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mars,
Rites of Spring,
Dorothy Ashby,
Amon Düül II,
Pharoah Sanders,
Interpol,
Rosa Yemen,
Los Fastidios,
Archie Shepp,
Joyce Sims,
Robert Wyatt,
Parry Music,
The Kinks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tomorrow,
Boredoms,
Junior Murvin,
The Barracudas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cal Tjader,
Dennis Brown,
Nico,
cv313,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.