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 Guinea-Bissau and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
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 808 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 Q65 to the grunge 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Crash Course in Science,
Tropical Tobacco,
Section 25,
MDC,
Connie Case,
Rod Modell,
Mark Hollis,
Derrick May,
OOIOO,
Fugazi,
JFA,
Adolescents,
Ornette Coleman,
Model 500,
Arthur Verocai,
The Real Kids,
Marvin Gaye,
Chrome,
Arcadia,
Gang Starr,
Brass Construction,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mars,
Man Parrish,
The Associates,
Flash Fearless,
New York Dolls,
Bluetip,
Yaz,
Los Fastidios,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gap Band,
EPMD,
The Martian,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
Darondo,
Bobby Byrd,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Animal Collective,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Skarface,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Beau Brummels,
Ossler,
Donald Byrd,
The Alarm Clocks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Cramps,
Zero Boys,
Yusef Lateef,
Can,
Underground Resistance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Womack,
Echospace,
Grey Daturas,
Joyce Sims,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.