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 Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Au Pairs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Q and Not U,
The Selecter,
K-Klass,
The Remains,
Animal Collective,
Albert Ayler,
Underground Resistance,
Eddi Front,
Eric Copeland,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Masters at Work,
Radio Birdman,
Pussy Galore,
Eric Dolphy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Vogues,
Suburban Knight,
Ludus,
Make Up,
Blancmange,
Banda Bassotti,
Aloha Tigers,
Inner City,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
JFA,
Juan Atkins,
U.S. Maple,
Curtis Mayfield,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Supertramp,
The Grass Roots,
The Electric Prunes,
Ponytail,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Golliwogs,
Moss Icon,
The Cramps,
Fear,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gabor Szabo,
Tears for Fears,
The Mojo Men,
The Names,
Index,
Joe Finger,
DNA,
Arthur Verocai,
Matthew Halsall,
Flamin' Groovies,
Warren Ellis,
The Young Rascals,
Deadbeat,
kango's stein massive,
Mo-Dettes,
Brand Nubian,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Trojans,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.