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 Djibouti and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Skaos to the jazz 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Ken Boothe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Bar-Kays,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jacques Brel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Infiniti,
LL Cool J,
Boz Scaggs,
Mission of Burma,
Main Source,
Tim Buckley,
Jerry's Kids,
Grauzone,
Aural Exciters,
Whodini,
Don Cherry,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stiv Bators,
Scion,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Toasters,
Arcadia,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tres Demented,
Stetsasonic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Derrick Morgan,
ABBA,
Swell Maps,
The Gap Band,
Technova,
The Gladiators,
The Walker Brothers,
Q65,
The Cure,
Reagan Youth,
the Human League,
Grandmaster Flash,
Althea and Donna,
Marine Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sandy B,
Minutemen,
The Wake,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Evens,
Hoover,
The Leaves,
Sparks,
Clear Light,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sugar Minott,
cv313,
the Slits,
Derrick May,
Swans,
Chrome,
Jeff Lynne,
Los Fastidios,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.