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 Kosovo and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb 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 Symarip to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sun Ra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Derrick May,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Walker Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Echospace,
Pussy Galore,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
Barrington Levy,
Stereo Dub,
Deakin,
Khruangbin,
UT,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Symarip,
Infiniti,
Soul Sonic Force,
MDC,
Quadrant,
Surgeon,
Gang of Four,
The United States of America,
Grauzone,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amon Düül,
Agent Orange,
The Smiths,
Arab on Radar,
Radiohead,
Colin Newman,
Rapeman,
Funky Four + One,
The Move,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
AZ,
Buzzcocks,
Little Man,
Nirvana,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Martian,
Bill Near,
Vainqueur,
The Gap Band,
Scrapy,
Isaac Hayes,
Dawn Penn,
Clear Light,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fire Engines,
Nick Fraelich,
Hasil Adkins,
Kenny Larkin,
Lakeside,
Can,
Suicide,
Sex Pistols,
Harmonia,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.