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 Cuba and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 K-Klass to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
kango's stein massive,
Easy Going,
Soft Machine,
Sällskapet,
Flipper,
Tommy Roe,
The Techniques,
Blake Baxter,
Symarip,
Country Teasers,
Rufus Thomas,
Audionom,
Suicide,
Be Bop Deluxe,
L. Decosne,
MC5,
June Days,
The Offenders,
Scott Walker,
Q and Not U,
Scion,
Mission of Burma,
Brick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Normal,
Pharoah Sanders,
Angry Samoans,
The Saints,
Blossom Toes,
MDC,
DJ Style,
The Golliwogs,
Scrapy,
The Cowsills,
Hot Snakes,
Steve Hackett,
Icehouse,
Heaven 17,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joe Smooth,
Albert Ayler,
The Music Machine,
Desert Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Brothers Johnson,
Alison Limerick,
The Velvet Underground,
Ken Boothe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Electric Prunes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Susan Cadogan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Vladislav Delay,
Lightning Bolt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Barrington Levy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fortunes,
Arthur Verocai,
UT,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.