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 Mauritania and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
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 arpeggiator 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
The Velvet Underground,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Janne Schatter,
Arcadia,
Stiv Bators,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dead Boys,
Dave Gahan,
Dual Sessions,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sun City Girls,
Main Source,
Lou Christie,
Pagans,
Connie Case,
John Cale,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Interpol,
Gerry Rafferty,
Derrick Morgan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jawbox,
UT,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Evens,
Kerrie Biddell,
Trumans Water,
Whodini,
Groovy Waters,
Amon Düül,
David Bowie,
Sparks,
Pantytec,
Niagra,
The Offenders,
Maurizio,
Tom Boy,
Kurtis Blow,
Lightning Bolt,
Rufus Thomas,
Brothers Johnson,
The Motions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Amon Düül II,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bizarre Inc.,
Babytalk,
Hasil Adkins,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tomorrow,
Marvin Gaye,
Soul II Soul,
La Düsseldorf,
The Dead C,
John Holt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.