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 Dominica and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Chris Corsano to the crunk 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
CMW,
Jeru the Damaja,
Juan Atkins,
Fat Boys,
Magazine,
Amon Düül,
The Happenings,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gladiators,
Barry Ungar,
Kerri Chandler,
Hot Snakes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Goldenarms,
The Fortunes,
the Human League,
Pierre Henry,
Archie Shepp,
The Skatalites,
KRS-One,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ronan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sonics,
New York Dolls,
The Raincoats,
Erasure,
Glenn Branca,
Bill Wells,
The Toasters,
Royal Trux,
ABBA,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Duran Duran,
Lungfish,
Pulsallama,
Soul II Soul,
The Sound,
Slick Rick,
Ten City,
Derrick May,
Fad Gadget,
X-102,
Flipper,
Sixth Finger,
Hardrive,
Shoche,
Joe Finger,
Pagans,
The Fire Engines,
Rod Modell,
Altered Images,
UT,
Q65,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scan 7,
Laurel Aitken,
Neu!,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.