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 Jakarta.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Sixth Finger to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cramps,
The Happenings,
Graham Central Station,
The Blues Magoos,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Wyatt,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mummies,
Boredoms,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Skatalites,
Schoolly D,
Nas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Average White Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dual Sessions,
DJ Style,
Jeff Mills,
Skriet,
AZ,
Essential Logic,
Lyres,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
CMW,
Television Personalities,
The Tremeloes,
R.M.O.,
Amon Düül,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gun Club,
Scion,
Yusef Lateef,
the Sonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
This Heat,
Massinfluence,
Deepchord,
Malaria!,
Gang Gang Dance,
Section 25,
Crime,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pantytec,
The Grass Roots,
Byron Stingily,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Supertramp,
The Durutti Column,
Sarah Menescal,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.