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 Suriname and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Average White Band to the rap 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
10cc,
Yazoo,
Motorama,
Glenn Branca,
Little Man,
Joyce Sims,
The Tremeloes,
Bang On A Can,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
T. Rex,
a-ha,
Q65,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Cale,
Hoover,
Marvin Gaye,
Brick,
Black Bananas,
Roy Ayers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lucky Dragons,
The Sonics,
The Red Krayola,
Al Stewart,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dave Gahan,
Eddi Front,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Skriet,
The Beau Brummels,
Frankie Knuckles,
London Community Gospel Choir,
cv313,
Letta Mbulu,
Barbara Tucker,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Metal Thangz,
Fluxion,
Essential Logic,
Pantaleimon,
Robert Görl,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fortunes,
Duran Duran,
Ronnie Foster,
Second Layer,
The Monks,
Joe Smooth,
Massinfluence,
Rufus Thomas,
Hardrive,
Oneida,
Jesper Dahlback,
OOIOO,
Robert Wyatt,
Los Fastidios,
Bronski Beat,
Basic Channel,
Kas Product,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.