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 Mongolia and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Bootsy Collins to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Dolphy,
a-ha,
Severed Heads,
Erykah Badu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Can,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mary Jane Girls,
Guru Guru,
Bush Tetras,
Freddie Wadling,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hoover,
The Cure,
Iggy Pop,
Fatback Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
The J.B.'s,
Nils Olav,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marvin Gaye,
The Move,
Qualms,
Deakin,
Brick,
The Sonics,
Matthew Bourne,
EPMD,
Basic Channel,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scientists,
World's Most,
Fear,
Cymande,
Graham Central Station,
Technova,
The Litter,
Jacques Brel,
The Electric Prunes,
Sound Behaviour,
Radiohead,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Terrestrial Tones,
One Last Wish,
Barbara Tucker,
Carl Craig,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gabor Szabo,
Radio Birdman,
Blake Baxter,
Pharoah Sanders,
China Crisis,
Oneida,
Anakelly,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Moebius,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Human League,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.