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 Ethiopia and from Spokane.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 John Holt to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
Rosa Yemen,
Khruangbin,
Joe Finger,
Donny Hathaway,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
These Immortal Souls,
Ten City,
Charles Mingus,
Neu!,
Q65,
The Doors,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Beau Brummels,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pole,
The Angels of Light,
ABC,
Ossler,
Mo-Dettes,
The Toasters,
Minny Pops,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Average White Band,
Albert Ayler,
Theoretical Girls,
Warsaw,
Drexciya,
Aural Exciters,
The Moleskins,
Ponytail,
Roy Ayers,
Grauzone,
The Evens,
Boredoms,
Grey Daturas,
Stetsasonic,
Amon Düül II,
the Slits,
The Cramps,
Danielle Patucci,
Judy Mowatt,
Gichy Dan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Deadbeat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gories,
Gregory Isaacs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sällskapet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sun Ra,
Circle Jerks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dual Sessions,
The Grass Roots,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.