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 Slovenia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Scrapy,
UT,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Martian,
Funkadelic,
Nils Olav,
F. McDonald,
B.T. Express,
Magma,
Gong,
Brand Nubian,
Q65,
The Fuzztones,
Sex Pistols,
ABC,
Babytalk,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scion,
Easy Going,
Danielle Patucci,
John Holt,
Heaven 17,
Carl Craig,
Arab on Radar,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tom Boy,
Black Bananas,
Rekid,
Gabor Szabo,
Max Romeo,
Davy DMX,
Traffic Nightmare,
Monks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Smog,
Electric Prunes,
Black Pus,
Yellowson,
Sandy B,
Con Funk Shun,
The Leaves,
Harmonia,
Spoonie Gee,
The Music Machine,
Y Pants,
The Zeros,
Index,
Gang Starr,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grey Daturas,
Nas,
Ken Boothe,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Remains,
The Birthday Party,
Los Fastidios,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.