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 Nicaragua and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar 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 Jeff Mills to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Joe Finger,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Khruangbin,
Tim Buckley,
Stockholm Monsters,
Skriet,
Ken Boothe,
Hasil Adkins,
Sparks,
Letta Mbulu,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Alton Ellis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Liliput,
Maurizio,
Man Eating Sloth,
Radiohead,
MDC,
Danielle Patucci,
Tears for Fears,
Au Pairs,
Derrick Morgan,
Ronnie Foster,
DNA,
Bizarre Inc.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aswad,
Dawn Penn,
Glenn Branca,
Nik Kershaw,
The Misunderstood,
The Divine Comedy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marvin Gaye,
Sarah Menescal,
Livin' Joy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jimmy McGriff,
Loose Ends,
Yellowson,
Connie Case,
The Fugs,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Television,
Juan Atkins,
The Electric Prunes,
The Black Dice,
Peter and Kerry,
Lou Reed,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alison Limerick,
Ten City,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Red Krayola,
Simply Red,
Funky Four + One,
K-Klass,
Suburban Knight,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.