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 Georgia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Man Eating Sloth to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Porter Ricks,
Qualms,
Liliput,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cluster,
Accadde A,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wolf Eyes,
Scion,
Dark Day,
The Knickerbockers,
Franke,
The Grass Roots,
Barry Ungar,
Thee Headcoats,
Q65,
Audionom,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Suicide,
Nick Fraelich,
June Days,
The Slits,
Ultra Naté,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bootsy Collins,
Agitation Free,
Wasted Youth,
The Velvet Underground,
Throbbing Gristle,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dennis Brown,
Shuggie Otis,
Jerry's Kids,
Newcleus,
Kevin Saunderson,
Can,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Womack,
Skaos,
Alton Ellis,
JFA,
Eve St. Jones,
Erasure,
Eric Copeland,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bronski Beat,
Theoretical Girls,
New Order,
Gabor Szabo,
The Five Americans,
Rakim,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pole,
Main Source,
Essential Logic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Christie,
Ultravox,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.