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 Uruguay and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Arthur Verocai to the crunk 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Warren Ellis,
the Germs,
Pierre Henry,
The Angels of Light,
Leonard Cohen,
Spandau Ballet,
Zapp,
Yazoo,
FM Einheit,
L. Decosne,
Man Parrish,
Khruangbin,
The Raincoats,
Motorama,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Monochrome Set,
Aural Exciters,
Donald Byrd,
Y Pants,
Sex Pistols,
Sound Behaviour,
Basic Channel,
The Martian,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric Copeland,
Vladislav Delay,
Deakin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Golliwogs,
The Misunderstood,
T. Rex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Unwound,
The Last Poets,
Sugar Minott,
Danielle Patucci,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Litter,
Glenn Branca,
The American Breed,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dead C,
Maurizio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Piero Umiliani,
X-102,
The Sound,
John Lydon,
D'Angelo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Das Ding,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soft Machine,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.