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 Sierra Leone and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Boz Scaggs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Janne Schatter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Malaria!,
Connie Case,
Bobby Womack,
The Evens,
Crispian St. Peters,
Josef K,
Marc Almond,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
June of 44,
The Buckinghams,
Monolake,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Hutcherson,
OOIOO,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tres Demented,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cybotron,
Minnie Riperton,
Jerry's Kids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Agitation Free,
Surgeon,
Fear,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Robert Görl,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Judy Mowatt,
Swans,
Brand Nubian,
Adolescents,
Michelle Simonal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eve St. Jones,
Glenn Branca,
Shoche,
Harry Pussy,
Jandek,
John Lydon,
David Axelrod,
Supertramp,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Associates,
Animal Collective,
10cc,
Qualms,
Television Personalities,
Kool Moe Dee,
Barbara Tucker,
Youth Brigade,
The Monks,
Scientists,
Q and Not U,
The Velvet Underground,
Angry Samoans,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.