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 Libya and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jeru the Damaja to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots 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?
Don Cherry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Basic Channel,
Clear Light,
The Red Krayola,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Zeros,
Sound Behaviour,
Essential Logic,
David Bowie,
The Martian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Half Japanese,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pagans,
The Skatalites,
Maleditus Sound,
Lyres,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mo-Dettes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alphaville,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Suburban Knight,
Max Romeo,
The Modern Lovers,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Index,
Newcleus,
The Fuzztones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Khruangbin,
LL Cool J,
Wings,
The Gun Club,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crooked Eye,
Negative Approach,
Judy Mowatt,
Quantec,
Make Up,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Slits,
The American Breed,
Arab on Radar,
Gong,
Adolescents,
Arthur Verocai,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Last Poets,
the Normal,
48th St. Collective,
Eddi Front,
Johnny Clarke,
Metal Thangz,
Yellowson,
Organ,
Nick Fraelich,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.