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 Uzbekistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rakim to the grunge 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
David Bowie,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Harry Pussy,
Grey Daturas,
Matthew Halsall,
Schoolly D,
Gabor Szabo,
Bang On A Can,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Circle Jerks,
Laurel Aitken,
The Red Krayola,
Andrew Hill,
Lee Hazlewood,
UT,
Amon Düül II,
Prince Buster,
Excepter,
The Last Poets,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tommy Roe,
Blake Baxter,
Cluster,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mandrill,
Joe Smooth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
EPMD,
Das Ding,
Maurizio,
Aloha Tigers,
The Index,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dual Sessions,
Warsaw,
Whodini,
X-102,
Jerry's Kids,
Scrapy,
Bob Dylan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Anakelly,
Buzzcocks,
Banda Bassotti,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Au Pairs,
Sarah Menescal,
Derrick May,
Hoover,
The Flesh Eaters,
T.S.O.L.,
Minutemen,
The Smiths,
The Remains,
Skaos,
June of 44,
Deadbeat,
Juan Atkins,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.