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 Syria and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin 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 Angry Samoans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Letta Mbulu,
Janne Schatter,
ABC,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Niagra,
Fatback Band,
Gang of Four,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Bar-Kays,
Lyres,
Matthew Bourne,
Rekid,
Joe Smooth,
the Soft Cell,
Barry Ungar,
Intrusion,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barrington Levy,
Fat Boys,
The Real Kids,
MDC,
Bush Tetras,
Heaven 17,
The Names,
Severed Heads,
In Retrospect,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Techniques,
Desert Stars,
Fad Gadget,
The Durutti Column,
kango's stein massive,
Cymande,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Main Source,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeff Mills,
Circle Jerks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arab on Radar,
Nik Kershaw,
Moebius,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Görl,
Ituana,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pierre Henry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lalann,
Idris Muhammad,
The Five Americans,
Glenn Branca,
Charles Mingus,
Suicide,
The Gories,
Soul II Soul,
Bill Wells,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.