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 Rwanda and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Tropical Tobacco 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
DJ Sneak,
Warsaw,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Wake,
Drexciya,
Icehouse,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nick Fraelich,
Japan,
Siglo XX,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gong,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scrapy,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Birthday Party,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Funky Four + One,
Charles Mingus,
The Walker Brothers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nils Olav,
the Soft Cell,
Bauhaus,
The Standells,
The Leaves,
the Sonics,
Marine Girls,
Ultravox,
Flash Fearless,
Andrew Hill,
Q65,
Nas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Misunderstood,
Amon Düül II,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Susan Cadogan,
Quadrant,
Don Cherry,
Spandau Ballet,
Simply Red,
Rotary Connection,
The Motions,
The New Christs,
Wings,
Davy DMX,
Parry Music,
Youth Brigade,
Y Pants,
AZ,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Urselle,
The Dead C,
Radio Birdman,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.