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 Romania and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the techno 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
The Dave Clark Five,
Donny Hathaway,
The Sound,
Motorama,
Deepchord,
The Fortunes,
The Knickerbockers,
Intrusion,
Mark Hollis,
The Seeds,
Cluster,
K-Klass,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Donald Byrd,
Man Eating Sloth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Mojo Men,
Model 500,
Peter and Kerry,
Make Up,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stiv Bators,
Bang On A Can,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kerrie Biddell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Coltrane,
The Toasters,
Sonic Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harmonia,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soul II Soul,
Godley & Creme,
The Smiths,
Sexual Harrassment,
Con Funk Shun,
The Last Poets,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Moon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tim Buckley,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mo-Dettes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dead C,
Mad Mike,
Joy Division,
Delta 5,
T.S.O.L.,
CMW,
Fatback Band,
Faust,
The Busters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bootsy Collins,
Cecil Taylor,
Moebius,
Index,
John Cale,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.