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 Bahamas and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Arthur Verocai to the electroclash 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Procol Harum,
Rekid,
Pagans,
Junior Murvin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Donald Byrd,
Sparks,
Piero Umiliani,
Ohio Players,
Tim Buckley,
The United States of America,
Carl Craig,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Techniques,
Sixth Finger,
Arthur Verocai,
The Wake,
Country Teasers,
the Association,
Mo-Dettes,
The Red Krayola,
Pylon,
Absolute Body Control,
Flash Fearless,
The Star Department,
Joe Smooth,
The Barracudas,
Pierre Henry,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Soft Cell,
Dark Day,
D'Angelo,
Tubeway Army,
Eddi Front,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cheater Slicks,
Moss Icon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ronan,
The Cure,
Joensuu 1685,
New Order,
Nico,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harmonia,
Maurizio,
Bobby Womack,
Negative Approach,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jeru the Damaja,
Anakelly,
The Evens,
Idris Muhammad,
Rotary Connection,
Average White Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.