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 Israel and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the crunk 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Section 25,
The Count Five,
The Litter,
Motorama,
Interpol,
Sun Ra,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fugs,
Brick,
The Knickerbockers,
Aloha Tigers,
Parry Music,
48th St. Collective,
Vladislav Delay,
Minutemen,
Terry Callier,
Rakim,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cramps,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gun Club,
Visage,
Vainqueur,
Sister Nancy,
Marvin Gaye,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pierre Henry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Black Dice,
Scientists,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Unrelated Segments,
Negative Approach,
Little Man,
Delta 5,
Brass Construction,
The Skatalites,
Tommy Roe,
Mad Mike,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fuzztones,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roger Hodgson,
UT,
Letta Mbulu,
Radio Birdman,
Faust,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camouflage,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Association,
Blancmange,
Yusef Lateef,
The Barracudas,
AZ,
Bluetip,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.