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 Namibia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Buzzcocks to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Ludus,
Barry Ungar,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Deadbeat,
Unwound,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hoover,
The Count Five,
Jeff Mills,
Kerri Chandler,
Charles Mingus,
The Wake,
The Beau Brummels,
B.T. Express,
June Days,
Unrelated Segments,
Freddie Wadling,
Soulsonic Force,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Foxx,
Con Funk Shun,
Harry Pussy,
Pantytec,
Metal Thangz,
The Fire Engines,
Junior Murvin,
The Blackbyrds,
The Five Americans,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Simply Red,
Eurythmics,
The Pop Group,
Zapp,
Stetsasonic,
DNA,
KRS-One,
Rakim,
Model 500,
Wally Richardson,
Fela Kuti,
Roxy Music,
Harmonia,
Tomorrow,
Echospace,
Roy Ayers,
Max Romeo,
The Flesh Eaters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Durutti Column,
Eric B and Rakim,
This Heat,
Nils Olav,
Circle Jerks,
Yellowson,
Derrick May,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Motions,
Easy Going,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Icehouse,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.