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 Guinea-Bissau and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Lungfish to the electroclash 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Young Marble Giants,
Faust,
Amon Düül II,
Newcleus,
The Remains,
The Selecter,
Patti Smith,
Faraquet,
Peter & Gordon,
Skriet,
The Neon Judgement,
The Smiths,
The United States of America,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Robert Wyatt,
Cybotron,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sugar Minott,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Accadde A,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thee Headcoats,
Bush Tetras,
Liliput,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Five Americans,
H. Thieme,
Delta 5,
Whodini,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Chris & Cosey,
Arab on Radar,
Jeru the Damaja,
Derrick May,
Barrington Levy,
Soft Cell,
Erasure,
Heaven 17,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Oneida,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Foxx,
The Velvet Underground,
Grauzone,
Darondo,
Pantaleimon,
Cameo,
New Order,
Drexciya,
Franke,
Derrick Morgan,
Brothers Johnson,
Schoolly D,
Blossom Toes,
Surgeon,
Animal Collective,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.