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 Tuvalu and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Magma to the electroclash 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Five Americans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kayak,
L. Decosne,
OOIOO,
The Mojo Men,
Faraquet,
Scientists,
Mark Hollis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Accadde A,
Tres Demented,
Lakeside,
the Swans,
Glenn Branca,
Quando Quango,
The Techniques,
Groovy Waters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pagans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Beau Brummels,
Marine Girls,
Khruangbin,
Donald Byrd,
The Selecter,
Excepter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kenny Larkin,
Jandek,
The Smiths,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Symarip,
48th St. Collective,
T. Rex,
David Bowie,
10cc,
Funky Four + One,
The Doors,
U.S. Maple,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Associates,
Con Funk Shun,
Wasted Youth,
Lou Christie,
Tomorrow,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Moon,
Surgeon,
The Evens,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skaos,
The Moleskins,
Spandau Ballet,
Skarface,
Yaz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.