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 Norway and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Tres Demented to the punk 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
New Age Steppers,
Eddi Front,
Deakin,
Ohio Players,
Smog,
The Pop Group,
Bob Dylan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grauzone,
Bush Tetras,
Zero Boys,
Tom Boy,
Kaleidoscope,
Neil Young,
Subhumans,
Man Parrish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Arthur Verocai,
Vladislav Delay,
The Moody Blues,
Sandy B,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Shoche,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eurythmics,
Sixth Finger,
The Techniques,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New York Dolls,
The Happenings,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mad Mike,
Roy Ayers,
A Certain Ratio,
Eden Ahbez,
Mantronix,
Cymande,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gories,
Los Fastidios,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gap Band,
Eli Mardock,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fire Engines,
Oblivians,
Procol Harum,
T.S.O.L.,
Crime,
Boredoms,
Cheater Slicks,
JFA,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fuzztones,
Kerri Chandler,
Camouflage,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Unwound,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.