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 Jamaica and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes 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 Easy Going to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jandek,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cowsills,
Ponytail,
Lebanon Hanover,
Audionom,
Mandrill,
Magma,
Slave,
Barbara Tucker,
Arcadia,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crash Course in Science,
Hashim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lower 48,
Maleditus Sound,
Second Layer,
Soft Machine,
The Gladiators,
Junior Murvin,
E-Dancer,
The Red Krayola,
Bang On A Can,
Intrusion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pole,
David Bowie,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Goldenarms,
Altered Images,
L. Decosne,
Eve St. Jones,
Jawbox,
Deepchord,
Joy Division,
Matthew Halsall,
Don Cherry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cecil Taylor,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
DJ Style,
The Doors,
The Electric Prunes,
Anakelly,
Janne Schatter,
Niagra,
The Offenders,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
June of 44,
X-102,
Camberwell Now,
Marvin Gaye,
Andrew Hill,
Funkadelic,
Simply Red,
Circle Jerks,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.