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 Finland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ 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 the Bar-Kays to the punk 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Count Five,
Carl Craig,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sun Ra,
Skaos,
John Foxx,
Silicon Teens,
Jeff Mills,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Grauzone,
Dawn Penn,
Gang Green,
David McCallum,
New Age Steppers,
Danielle Patucci,
Eli Mardock,
Outsiders,
Cal Tjader,
Pantytec,
Gong,
La Düsseldorf,
Fluxion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Stooges,
Wolf Eyes,
Gerry Rafferty,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Normal,
Matthew Bourne,
Schoolly D,
The Busters,
X-Ray Spex,
Wally Richardson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hardrive,
Barrington Levy,
the Germs,
Quantec,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Skriet,
Heaven 17,
Con Funk Shun,
Intrusion,
Boz Scaggs,
Eve St. Jones,
Alison Limerick,
Severed Heads,
JFA,
Oneida,
Bang On A Can,
the Bar-Kays,
Mad Mike,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Seeds,
MDC,
DNA,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Spoonie Gee,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.