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 Latvia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
The Sonics,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Mojo Men,
Dennis Brown,
Lightning Bolt,
Skarface,
The Golliwogs,
Black Moon,
Charles Mingus,
Flash Fearless,
OOIOO,
Can,
Crime,
Scott Walker,
Pantaleimon,
Sun City Girls,
Moby Grape,
New York Dolls,
Monolake,
Unwound,
Depeche Mode,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jacques Brel,
Franke,
Sixth Finger,
The Music Machine,
Stiv Bators,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Wyatt,
Amazonics,
Joe Finger,
Yaz,
Lakeside,
John Lydon,
Althea and Donna,
Drexciya,
Youth Brigade,
Peter and Kerry,
U.S. Maple,
Cymande,
Anakelly,
Stereo Dub,
Outsiders,
Prince Buster,
Mark Hollis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
T.S.O.L.,
Minutemen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Reagan Youth,
Magma,
Pole,
Peter & Gordon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Funky Four + One,
Girls At Our Best!,
Television Personalities,
Oneida,
K-Klass,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.