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 Finland and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the jazz 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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gun Club,
the Swans,
Kas Product,
Eddi Front,
Rod Modell,
Gil Scott Heron,
Slave,
The Zeros,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nick Fraelich,
Guru Guru,
Motorama,
Terry Callier,
Scientists,
Sex Pistols,
Con Funk Shun,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bluetip,
Deadbeat,
Sound Behaviour,
James White and The Blacks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Desert Stars,
Deakin,
Matthew Halsall,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hoover,
New Age Steppers,
Joyce Sims,
Susan Cadogan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
The Star Department,
Black Sheep,
Donald Byrd,
Jandek,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Birthday Party,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sällskapet,
Leonard Cohen,
The Red Krayola,
Lakeside,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Pretty Things,
the Bar-Kays,
48th St. Collective,
John Lydon,
The Golliwogs,
Gichy Dan,
Rites of Spring,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dennis Brown,
Fela Kuti,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.