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 New Zealand and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 the 40 Watt.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Camberwell Now,
The Electric Prunes,
Mr. Review,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cal Tjader,
Los Fastidios,
The Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
Oneida,
Shuggie Otis,
Ken Boothe,
Young Marble Giants,
the Slits,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kerri Chandler,
Scott Walker,
Minor Threat,
Easy Going,
Mo-Dettes,
Bluetip,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Halsall,
Malaria!,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Man Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Erasure,
Fat Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Icehouse,
Delta 5,
Motorama,
Nils Olav,
Unrelated Segments,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Slackers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bill Wells,
Flash Fearless,
Tim Buckley,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eddi Front,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barrington Levy,
the Association,
Warsaw,
Lucky Dragons,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lindisfarne,
Television Personalities,
Index,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dark Day,
Marshall Jefferson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yellowson,
X-101,
Scratch Acid,
Suburban Knight,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cameo,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.