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 Venezuela and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Y Pants to the electroclash 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Boredoms,
Theoretical Girls,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Donald Byrd,
Symarip,
New York Dolls,
Pylon,
Shoche,
Jerry's Kids,
Agent Orange,
Black Sheep,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Görl,
Fugazi,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scrapy,
The Misunderstood,
Sandy B,
The Residents,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Funky Four + One,
B.T. Express,
Bad Manners,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cecil Taylor,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ten City,
Fela Kuti,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mr. Review,
Godley & Creme,
The Modern Lovers,
Patti Smith,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kool Moe Dee,
Niagra,
La Düsseldorf,
Avey Tare,
Aloha Tigers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ornette Coleman,
The Skatalites,
Deadbeat,
Fluxion,
Negative Approach,
Index,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scott Walker,
The Pretty Things,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cameo,
Outsiders,
Essential Logic,
Masters at Work,
The Buckinghams,
Pantaleimon,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.