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 Guatemala and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
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 güiro 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 Donald Byrd to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Slits,
Ludus,
the Human League,
John Lydon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Japan,
Make Up,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jacob Miller,
Fugazi,
Scott Walker,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hoover,
Carl Craig,
The Five Americans,
The Vogues,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare,
X-Ray Spex,
Rhythm & Sound,
Blancmange,
Godley & Creme,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Shadows of Knight,
CMW,
The Angels of Light,
Masters at Work,
The Residents,
Black Sheep,
Y Pants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gastr Del Sol,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Tim Buckley,
New Order,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Selecter,
Qualms,
Marine Girls,
Basic Channel,
Lower 48,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moby Grape,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aural Exciters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gladiators,
The Martian,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy Collins,
Minny Pops,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Sherman,
Charles Mingus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.