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 Austria and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Matthew Bourne to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Funkadelic,
The Martian,
Radiopuhelimet,
DNA,
Magma,
Gregory Isaacs,
OOIOO,
Sandy B,
Warren Ellis,
Skriet,
The Golliwogs,
Isaac Hayes,
Dead Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
The Searchers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gabor Szabo,
Soft Machine,
Deepchord,
Cecil Taylor,
The United States of America,
Grandmaster Flash,
Public Enemy,
Chris & Cosey,
Camouflage,
Rapeman,
Wolf Eyes,
The Durutti Column,
Organ,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gong,
Siglo XX,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ponytail,
Sällskapet,
Loose Ends,
Cameo,
Dual Sessions,
Junior Murvin,
Barry Ungar,
Ornette Coleman,
Massinfluence,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Todd Rundgren,
Procol Harum,
Ludus,
Howard Jones,
LL Cool J,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Vladislav Delay,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Blues Magoos,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hot Snakes,
The Index,
F. McDonald,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Reed,
The Electric Prunes,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.