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 Serbia and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Donald Fagen 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 Ohio Players to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Avey Tare,
Pagans,
Gong,
Aswad,
Black Sheep,
Barbara Tucker,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Television,
Newcleus,
48th St. Collective,
Sugar Minott,
Ronnie Foster,
Pantytec,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fugs,
Lyres,
UT,
Tres Demented,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Symarip,
The Trojans,
New York Dolls,
June of 44,
Soft Machine,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mr. Review,
Jeff Mills,
James White and The Blacks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Deepchord,
Warsaw,
JFA,
Deakin,
Y Pants,
Steve Hackett,
Brick,
Stetsasonic,
Johnny Osbourne,
Make Up,
Aaron Thompson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Khruangbin,
Ituana,
Skaos,
Black Flag,
The Monochrome Set,
The Leaves,
John Holt,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Skatalites,
Moby Grape,
Franke,
Erasure,
Fad Gadget,
Bush Tetras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Vainqueur,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.