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 Sierra Leone and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare 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 The Electric Prunes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Make Up,
Anakelly,
Fad Gadget,
Icehouse,
Radiohead,
Tres Demented,
Pussy Galore,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sun City Girls,
Judy Mowatt,
The Real Kids,
Ken Boothe,
Wasted Youth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Charles Mingus,
The Gap Band,
Bang On A Can,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Bananas,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pulsallama,
Metal Thangz,
John Coltrane,
Rufus Thomas,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Maleditus Sound,
Isaac Hayes,
Ice-T,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fela Kuti,
The Dead C,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Grey Daturas,
In Retrospect,
Nas,
The Leaves,
The Doors,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
MDC,
48th St. Collective,
Lungfish,
Anthony Braxton,
Faraquet,
Q and Not U,
Marine Girls,
Desert Stars,
The Mummies,
The Black Dice,
The Knickerbockers,
Roy Ayers,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cowsills,
Eddi Front,
The Young Rascals,
Neil Young,
Masters at Work,
Terry Callier,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Au Pairs,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.