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 Hungary and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Porter Ricks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minny Pops,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Victims,
Zero Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Althea and Donna,
Interpol,
Quantec,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Desert Stars,
The Vogues,
Crash Course in Science,
Pussy Galore,
Stereo Dub,
Pere Ubu,
The Raincoats,
The Misunderstood,
Reuben Wilson,
Dave Gahan,
Das Ding,
Aswad,
Underground Resistance,
The Doobie Brothers,
Slave,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Inner City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Litter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Golliwogs,
MC5,
Jacques Brel,
Nas,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gong,
Judy Mowatt,
Al Stewart,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arthur Verocai,
Archie Shepp,
Suicide,
Bill Wells,
Eurythmics,
Eden Ahbez,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hasil Adkins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
kango's stein massive,
The Searchers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Leonard Cohen,
Franke,
Kool Moe Dee,
Echospace,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fat Boys,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.