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 Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
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 arpeggiator 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 Minny Pops to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeff Lynne,
Mr. Review,
Robert Görl,
John Lydon,
Animal Collective,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Standells,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Human League,
Barry Ungar,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jacob Miller,
Moby Grape,
Barbara Tucker,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Teasers,
The Walker Brothers,
Massinfluence,
Nico,
The Kinks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Moss Icon,
ABC,
New Age Steppers,
Archie Shepp,
Alison Limerick,
Alice Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Subhumans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Morten Harket,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Sound,
Wally Richardson,
New Order,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marshall Jefferson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Con Funk Shun,
The Smiths,
Nik Kershaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Barracudas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Connie Case,
Laurel Aitken,
Brick,
The Tremeloes,
Camberwell Now,
The Misunderstood,
Unrelated Segments,
Arcadia,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Porter Ricks,
Echospace,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jeff Mills,
Audionom,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.