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 Korea South and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Funky Four + One to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
D'Angelo,
Basic Channel,
Derrick May,
Loose Ends,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barrington Levy,
UT,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Echospace,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gories,
Aural Exciters,
The Monks,
Pussy Galore,
Lower 48,
Toni Rubio,
Sonic Youth,
The Zeros,
Metal Thangz,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Move,
The Five Americans,
Marmalade,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Audionom,
X-Ray Spex,
DJ Sneak,
Icehouse,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Make Up,
48th St. Collective,
Suicide,
Qualms,
the Swans,
Babytalk,
Jeff Mills,
Mo-Dettes,
Sam Rivers,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Fugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Delta 5,
Au Pairs,
Ituana,
Wire,
Tears for Fears,
Stiv Bators,
Cecil Taylor,
Blancmange,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Skarface,
Siglo XX,
The Motions,
Swell Maps,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.