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 Slovenia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Michelle Simonal to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Blake Baxter,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
World's Most,
Soul II Soul,
Laurel Aitken,
Mark Hollis,
H. Thieme,
Pussy Galore,
Carl Craig,
a-ha,
Yusef Lateef,
Susan Cadogan,
Tim Buckley,
Quadrant,
Fat Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Massinfluence,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ohio Players,
Deakin,
Mr. Review,
Section 25,
X-102,
The Busters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sarah Menescal,
Chris Corsano,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
One Last Wish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bush Tetras,
Aural Exciters,
Accadde A,
Toni Rubio,
Barrington Levy,
The Toasters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Steve Hackett,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Iggy Pop,
Depeche Mode,
PIL,
Tomorrow,
Zero Boys,
Motorama,
Lindisfarne,
Camberwell Now,
Jerry's Kids,
Television Personalities,
Black Bananas,
Mission of Burma,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Japan,
Lou Reed,
L. Decosne,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.