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 Switzerland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro 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 Nas to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Grey Daturas,
Delta 5,
Suburban Knight,
Ossler,
Gang of Four,
The Saints,
Y Pants,
The Red Krayola,
Letta Mbulu,
Robert Hood,
Television Personalities,
Angry Samoans,
Moby Grape,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cowsills,
The Moleskins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Outsiders,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arab on Radar,
The Durutti Column,
The Index,
The Victims,
Absolute Body Control,
Gong,
The Vogues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thee Headcoats,
X-101,
The Busters,
Hasil Adkins,
Television,
Siglo XX,
Amon Düül,
Cecil Taylor,
Rites of Spring,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Sherman,
Lindisfarne,
Todd Rundgren,
Kaleidoscope,
Massinfluence,
Livin' Joy,
ABBA,
Gichy Dan,
Sun Ra,
Oneida,
Dawn Penn,
The Leaves,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nico,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
KRS-One,
Half Japanese,
R.M.O.,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Idris Muhammad,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.