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 Gabon and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 David Axelrod to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Swans,
Pylon,
Outsiders,
Marine Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soft Cell,
Agent Orange,
Al Stewart,
The Durutti Column,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun City Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
Spoonie Gee,
The Star Department,
Parry Music,
The Cure,
Jeff Lynne,
Smog,
Reagan Youth,
Pagans,
The Fugs,
LL Cool J,
Traffic Nightmare,
Glambeats Corp.,
MC5,
Babytalk,
Silicon Teens,
Warren Ellis,
Godley & Creme,
Jawbox,
The Wake,
Todd Terry,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric Copeland,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jacob Miller,
Bob Dylan,
Porter Ricks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Intrusion,
The Gap Band,
Henry Cow,
Black Flag,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Groovy Waters,
Vladislav Delay,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Shadows of Knight,
DNA,
The Last Poets,
Kerri Chandler,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.