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 Greece and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Warren Ellis to the rock 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin 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 oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Niagra,
Popol Vuh,
Ornette Coleman,
Neil Young,
Porter Ricks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Easy Going,
Suburban Knight,
Sexual Harrassment,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
EPMD,
Stiv Bators,
New Order,
Jeff Mills,
Ossler,
The Alarm Clocks,
Television,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Hood,
Das Ding,
Scientists,
Ohio Players,
Grauzone,
Nils Olav,
Lalo Schifrin,
Deadbeat,
The Misunderstood,
Monks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fluxion,
Faraquet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marvin Gaye,
Mark Hollis,
The Fortunes,
Icehouse,
Chrome,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Divine Comedy,
Goldenarms,
New Age Steppers,
Chris Corsano,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camouflage,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
These Immortal Souls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zapp,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.