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 Jamaica and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar 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 Big Daddy Kane to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Brass Construction,
The Associates,
Goldenarms,
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Smoke,
Crooked Eye,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Slits,
Tres Demented,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Easy Going,
Laurel Aitken,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Maurizio,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scott Walker,
Rakim,
World's Most,
The Remains,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Durutti Column,
Cymande,
Negative Approach,
Mo-Dettes,
PIL,
Q65,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Don Cherry,
Quadrant,
The Wake,
Neu!,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mr. Review,
JFA,
Crime,
Black Flag,
Boogie Down Productions,
Young Marble Giants,
Zero Boys,
Surgeon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Drexciya,
Nation of Ulysses,
Country Teasers,
Lightning Bolt,
Los Fastidios,
Grauzone,
Marine Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
ABC,
Man Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Whodini,
Alton Ellis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amazonics,
Sixth Finger,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.