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 Montenegro and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tropical Tobacco to the rock 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Eli Mardock,
X-101,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Offenders,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Anthony Braxton,
Dual Sessions,
Outsiders,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bronski Beat,
Ludus,
Bill Near,
Freddie Wadling,
Hoover,
Skaos,
Donny Hathaway,
Alice Coltrane,
Scion,
Kayak,
Inner City,
Metal Thangz,
the Sonics,
Stereo Dub,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Angels of Light,
Roger Hodgson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Symarip,
Reuben Wilson,
The Stooges,
Derrick May,
Joe Finger,
Aaron Thompson,
Jimmy McGriff,
World's Most,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June Days,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Archie Shepp,
Ohio Players,
Flipper,
8 Eyed Spy,
The United States of America,
Wolf Eyes,
Scientists,
Jacques Brel,
The Vogues,
The Slackers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pagans,
Oneida,
Wasted Youth,
Alison Limerick,
Radio Birdman,
Schoolly D,
Susan Cadogan,
Con Funk Shun,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Womack,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.