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 Antigua and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Robert Palmer 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
L. Decosne,
The Sonics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kurtis Blow,
Hot Snakes,
The Gun Club,
Parry Music,
The Slackers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kaleidoscope,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quadrant,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Last Poets,
The Black Dice,
Skarface,
Laurel Aitken,
Jerry's Kids,
Quando Quango,
Surgeon,
Depeche Mode,
The Star Department,
R.M.O.,
Nils Olav,
Bobby Sherman,
Infiniti,
Albert Ayler,
Joey Negro,
Maleditus Sound,
Skriet,
The Count Five,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cramps,
Crooked Eye,
John Lydon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joe Smooth,
The Fortunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Blake Baxter,
Magma,
The Pretty Things,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gichy Dan,
F. McDonald,
The Stooges,
Sparks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Half Japanese,
Eric Dolphy,
The Offenders,
Skaos,
Yusef Lateef,
Trumans Water,
Amazonics,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
H. Thieme,
Slave,
Isaac Hayes,
Accadde A,
Marc Almond,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.