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 Germany and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer 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 The J.B.'s to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Flipper,
Ornette Coleman,
Franke,
Heaven 17,
New York Dolls,
Joyce Sims,
These Immortal Souls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television Personalities,
Jeff Lynne,
Cluster,
Lakeside,
Average White Band,
Joensuu 1685,
The Alarm Clocks,
E-Dancer,
Ultravox,
Oneida,
Dead Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Derrick May,
Piero Umiliani,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moby Grape,
Amon Düül,
Stiv Bators,
Massinfluence,
Boz Scaggs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultra Naté,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Judy Mowatt,
Sound Behaviour,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Slave,
Jerry's Kids,
Bootsy Collins,
Public Image Ltd.,
Second Layer,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Matthew Halsall,
The Kinks,
Blossom Toes,
Magma,
The Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brass Construction,
The Count Five,
China Crisis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lalann,
X-Ray Spex,
The Birthday Party,
The Electric Prunes,
Nico,
DNA,
Little Man,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brick,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.