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 Malta and from Portland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Sam Rivers to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
The Neon Judgement,
Hasil Adkins,
Cameo,
Lower 48,
Nirvana,
Dave Gahan,
The Golliwogs,
Nas,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arthur Verocai,
PIL,
Man Parrish,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Coltrane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joy Division,
Bootsy Collins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stiv Bators,
Blancmange,
Glenn Branca,
Soft Machine,
Main Source,
MC5,
Quando Quango,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Anakelly,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alphaville,
Camouflage,
Circle Jerks,
The Residents,
Mr. Review,
June Days,
Scott Walker,
The Flesh Eaters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Buzzcocks,
Dual Sessions,
Aloha Tigers,
Intrusion,
The Monks,
Massinfluence,
The Pop Group,
Pet Shop Boys,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ituana,
The Doors,
Maleditus Sound,
Roy Ayers,
Jeru the Damaja,
T. Rex,
Yaz,
Robert Görl,
Eric Dolphy,
CMW,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.