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 Paraguay and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron 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 Yaz to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Arcadia,
Moby Grape,
Desert Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
48th St. Collective,
Carl Craig,
Siglo XX,
Janne Schatter,
New Age Steppers,
Pole,
Roy Ayers,
The Techniques,
Brick,
Accadde A,
Fela Kuti,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Al Stewart,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Second Layer,
Reuben Wilson,
Y Pants,
The American Breed,
a-ha,
Mary Jane Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Patti Smith,
Sam Rivers,
Ultra Naté,
MDC,
These Immortal Souls,
R.M.O.,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crooked Eye,
Eric Copeland,
Surgeon,
Bush Tetras,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rakim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pantytec,
Dual Sessions,
Susan Cadogan,
The Blues Magoos,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boz Scaggs,
Gabor Szabo,
the Association,
The Evens,
Neil Young,
Ronnie Foster,
Eden Ahbez,
Althea and Donna,
Los Fastidios,
Bad Manners,
The Sonics,
The Smiths,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.