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 Laos and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ponytail to the jazz 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
The Star Department,
UT,
Rakim,
Gang Starr,
The Fugs,
Sex Pistols,
Wolf Eyes,
Sällskapet,
Minutemen,
Motorama,
Toni Rubio,
The Index,
Goldenarms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Slits,
The Associates,
Fatback Band,
Yazoo,
Electric Prunes,
Jerry's Kids,
FM Einheit,
Trumans Water,
Gong,
Inner City,
Dead Boys,
Morten Harket,
Ken Boothe,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sister Nancy,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Move,
Stetsasonic,
The Real Kids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Popol Vuh,
Hashim,
Scion,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Sheep,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kurtis Blow,
Johnny Clarke,
Average White Band,
The Seeds,
Scrapy,
Bush Tetras,
This Heat,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Adolescents,
JFA,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
KRS-One,
Unrelated Segments,
Blake Baxter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Second Layer,
Siglo XX,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.