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 Micronesia and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba 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 the Bar-Kays 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Pussy Galore,
Visage,
X-101,
The Monochrome Set,
Drexciya,
Public Enemy,
Pagans,
Minnie Riperton,
The Sonics,
Grauzone,
Pantytec,
Reagan Youth,
Blancmange,
Bill Near,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Main Source,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alison Limerick,
Charles Mingus,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Connie Case,
Babytalk,
DNA,
Man Parrish,
The Invisible,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tears for Fears,
Girls At Our Best!,
Saccharine Trust,
Pole,
L. Decosne,
Das Ding,
The Music Machine,
The Martian,
Severed Heads,
Guru Guru,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Theoretical Girls,
Scan 7,
The Index,
Isaac Hayes,
Stiv Bators,
Quantec,
Television,
T. Rex,
The Fugs,
Susan Cadogan,
Sällskapet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Technova,
Niagra,
Chris Corsano,
Barbara Tucker,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Zeros,
Von Mondo,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.