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 Serbia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Aswad to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
X-101,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tres Demented,
Junior Murvin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The United States of America,
The Techniques,
The Trojans,
Desert Stars,
Y Pants,
Lucky Dragons,
Brick,
Soulsonic Force,
Reuben Wilson,
The Mojo Men,
Brand Nubian,
Al Stewart,
Sixth Finger,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sound Behaviour,
Crash Course in Science,
Aaron Thompson,
Morten Harket,
Sarah Menescal,
The Raincoats,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Unrelated Segments,
10cc,
the Association,
Talk Talk,
Tommy Roe,
The Cowsills,
Qualms,
Mandrill,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eurythmics,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Soft Cell,
Gichy Dan,
Cecil Taylor,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Tremeloes,
The Monochrome Set,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aural Exciters,
Sex Pistols,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Barracudas,
Popol Vuh,
Peter & Gordon,
Supertramp,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Echospace,
Con Funk Shun,
The Sound,
The Seeds,
Nils Olav,
Joyce Sims,
X-102,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.