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 Netherlands and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Andrew Hill to the disco 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dirtbombs,
Saccharine Trust,
Vladislav Delay,
Warren Ellis,
Mary Jane Girls,
Niagra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Faraquet,
Erasure,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Leaves,
Chrome,
Television,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Womack,
Deadbeat,
Smog,
June of 44,
Swans,
Q and Not U,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
June Days,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rakim,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Stooges,
OOIOO,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Zeros,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oblivians,
The Raincoats,
James White and The Blacks,
Alton Ellis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gladiators,
Morten Harket,
The Litter,
Sparks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Electric Prunes,
Technova,
KRS-One,
David McCallum,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cramps,
Matthew Halsall,
Tom Boy,
Pole,
Brothers Johnson,
kango's stein massive,
Rites of Spring,
Fugazi,
Kool Moe Dee,
DJ Sneak,
8 Eyed Spy,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.