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 Georgia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Donald Fagen 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 James White and The Blacks to the grunge 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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sam Rivers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Y Pants,
Radiopuhelimet,
Brand Nubian,
The Angels of Light,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Flipper,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Womack,
Thee Headcoats,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
ABBA,
Quando Quango,
Eden Ahbez,
David Bowie,
Darondo,
The Litter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dual Sessions,
Absolute Body Control,
AZ,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Count Five,
Charles Mingus,
The Standells,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Yazoo,
Liliput,
Jerry's Kids,
The Victims,
Adolescents,
Sound Behaviour,
Radio Birdman,
Jandek,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cal Tjader,
Arab on Radar,
Man Eating Sloth,
Delta 5,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rites of Spring,
Altered Images,
Kerri Chandler,
Freddie Wadling,
cv313,
Hoover,
Sun City Girls,
Rotary Connection,
Frankie Knuckles,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.