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 Syria and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
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 guitar 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 Das Ding to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deepchord,
The Red Krayola,
The Last Poets,
Godley & Creme,
Byron Stingily,
Eric B and Rakim,
48th St. Collective,
The Fortunes,
Sandy B,
Alice Coltrane,
Sällskapet,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Selecter,
Pussy Galore,
Dorothy Ashby,
Morten Harket,
Stetsasonic,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
a-ha,
Supertramp,
Rakim,
Rosa Yemen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gap Band,
Pagans,
Anthony Braxton,
Eden Ahbez,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Davy DMX,
Joy Division,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Piero Umiliani,
Warren Ellis,
Japan,
Alton Ellis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Leaves,
Jeff Lynne,
Audionom,
Index,
Outsiders,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric Dolphy,
Tommy Roe,
Ronan,
The Offenders,
Easy Going,
Scrapy,
Bush Tetras,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Faust,
A Certain Ratio,
Eric Copeland,
Ludus,
Skaos,
Agent Orange,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.