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 Kuwait and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord 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 Mad Mike to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wings,
the Human League,
Jesper Dahlback,
Radio Birdman,
Don Cherry,
Andrew Hill,
Black Bananas,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Count Five,
Au Pairs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marc Almond,
Hoover,
Sister Nancy,
The Gap Band,
Inner City,
Blossom Toes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brass Construction,
Man Parrish,
DJ Style,
X-Ray Spex,
Royal Trux,
Rites of Spring,
The Smiths,
Echospace,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fuzztones,
DNA,
Fat Boys,
Moss Icon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scott Walker,
Kas Product,
The Fall,
Zero Boys,
Ken Boothe,
Grey Daturas,
The Raincoats,
Outsiders,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Sonics,
Ponytail,
Spandau Ballet,
the Slits,
Sun Ra,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Real Kids,
The Trojans,
Sex Pistols,
The Seeds,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Detroit Cobras,
In Retrospect,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.