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 Thailand and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Jimmy McGriff to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skarface,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Sonics,
Aural Exciters,
Newcleus,
Soft Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nico,
Wolf Eyes,
F. McDonald,
Wings,
48th St. Collective,
The Cowsills,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bronski Beat,
Reuben Wilson,
The Golliwogs,
The Grass Roots,
The Dave Clark Five,
Don Cherry,
The Angels of Light,
John Coltrane,
A Certain Ratio,
The Residents,
Neil Young,
Crash Course in Science,
Scott Walker,
Crime,
The Vogues,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pole,
The Gap Band,
Country Teasers,
Cymande,
Groovy Waters,
The Moleskins,
Tommy Roe,
Silicon Teens,
Sun Ra,
The Slackers,
the Slits,
the Human League,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joyce Sims,
Panda Bear,
Roy Ayers,
Aloha Tigers,
Minor Threat,
Liliput,
Susan Cadogan,
Scan 7,
Michelle Simonal,
Sällskapet,
Skriet,
Fela Kuti,
Slick Rick,
Dead Boys,
Ultravox,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.