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 Qatar and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Hot Snakes to the grime 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Barry Ungar,
Pantaleimon,
The Smoke,
Brand Nubian,
The Remains,
The Electric Prunes,
Eric Copeland,
Inner City,
The Tremeloes,
The Moody Blues,
Eli Mardock,
Marvin Gaye,
Tom Boy,
Khruangbin,
Robert Görl,
Section 25,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amon Düül II,
Tim Buckley,
Fat Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Au Pairs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
Popol Vuh,
Sixth Finger,
EPMD,
Pantytec,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alphaville,
the Slits,
Archie Shepp,
Ultravox,
Connie Case,
Country Teasers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brothers Johnson,
Cybotron,
Pole,
Sun City Girls,
The Searchers,
Kurtis Blow,
Charles Mingus,
Ronnie Foster,
Hashim,
The Buckinghams,
Ludus,
Prince Buster,
Theoretical Girls,
Faraquet,
FM Einheit,
Donny Hathaway,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jeff Mills,
Y Pants,
Carl Craig,
Sun Ra,
Glambeats Corp.,
Freddie Wadling,
The Offenders,
Albert Ayler,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.