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 Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe 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 UT to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Index,
Carl Craig,
Stereo Dub,
Freddie Wadling,
Rapeman,
B.T. Express,
Colin Newman,
The Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Second Layer,
Whodini,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Residents,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Hood,
KRS-One,
the Normal,
Boz Scaggs,
Sister Nancy,
Model 500,
F. McDonald,
The Skatalites,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Q65,
Drive Like Jehu,
Saccharine Trust,
Mad Mike,
Davy DMX,
The Detroit Cobras,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Soulsonic Force,
These Immortal Souls,
Tom Boy,
The Standells,
The Mummies,
Bauhaus,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Wake,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Brass Construction,
Television Personalities,
Kool Moe Dee,
Todd Terry,
Bad Manners,
Ornette Coleman,
Rufus Thomas,
Anakelly,
Jawbox,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
E-Dancer,
The J.B.'s,
Amon Düül,
New Age Steppers,
The Sonics,
The Techniques,
The Misunderstood,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radiohead,
Sight & Sound,
Barry Ungar,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.