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 Monaco and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the crunk 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
The Names,
Sun Ra,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Knickerbockers,
FM Einheit,
Deakin,
Average White Band,
Reagan Youth,
The Move,
Sugar Minott,
Animal Collective,
Faust,
Blancmange,
The Last Poets,
Vladislav Delay,
D'Angelo,
Patti Smith,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
EPMD,
Laurel Aitken,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bauhaus,
Essential Logic,
Severed Heads,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Bananas,
Quantec,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sun City Girls,
Blossom Toes,
Nico,
Fugazi,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Underground Resistance,
Parry Music,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fugs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ituana,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Blues Magoos,
Dennis Brown,
AZ,
Brick,
The Gladiators,
Joyce Sims,
Kerrie Biddell,
Second Layer,
The Sound,
Model 500,
The Remains,
The Dirtbombs,
Scientists,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.