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 South Africa and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
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 Symarip to the dance 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Derrick Morgan,
The Zeros,
X-101,
The Count Five,
EPMD,
Reagan Youth,
MC5,
The Knickerbockers,
Johnny Clarke,
Sex Pistols,
Outsiders,
Sällskapet,
Joensuu 1685,
Quantec,
Eden Ahbez,
Wally Richardson,
Spoonie Gee,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Television Personalities,
Kayak,
Cybotron,
These Immortal Souls,
Hashim,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mandrill,
Danielle Patucci,
Ornette Coleman,
Joey Negro,
Stiv Bators,
Avey Tare,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Grey Daturas,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mars,
Juan Atkins,
Minny Pops,
Lakeside,
The Associates,
Boogie Down Productions,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tubeway Army,
Al Stewart,
The Last Poets,
Barry Ungar,
Robert Wyatt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wings,
Barclay James Harvest,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Masters at Work,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gladiators,
New Order,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
K-Klass,
Donny Hathaway,
Brass Construction,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Sonics,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.