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 Bhutan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marvin Gaye to the rock 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Cameo,
New Age Steppers,
Livin' Joy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sight & Sound,
The Five Americans,
Dual Sessions,
Anthony Braxton,
Absolute Body Control,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang On A Can,
June Days,
Don Cherry,
Rufus Thomas,
Slick Rick,
Ossler,
Bobby Byrd,
Visage,
John Cale,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joey Negro,
Leonard Cohen,
B.T. Express,
Big Daddy Kane,
China Crisis,
Stetsasonic,
The Dead C,
Das Ding,
Sun Ra,
Prince Buster,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Slits,
The Cure,
Wings,
Gichy Dan,
Minny Pops,
The Martian,
Jandek,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Bar-Kays,
Cybotron,
The Wake,
Ronan,
Carl Craig,
Suburban Knight,
Fear,
Cecil Taylor,
Max Romeo,
Albert Ayler,
The Black Dice,
Blancmange,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Agent Orange,
Joe Smooth,
L. Decosne,
Hardrive,
Byron Stingily,
Nas,
Von Mondo,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.