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 San Marino and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare 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 Smiths to the electroclash 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Model 500,
Monks,
Crash Course in Science,
Das Ding,
Josef K,
Danielle Patucci,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
H. Thieme,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Bourne,
The Smoke,
Eric Dolphy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Parry Music,
Simply Red,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Moon,
The Gories,
Flipper,
Brass Construction,
Hoover,
LL Cool J,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nas,
Unrelated Segments,
Sight & Sound,
Metal Thangz,
ABC,
David McCallum,
The Blues Magoos,
Eli Mardock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ice-T,
The Motions,
The Stooges,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Franke,
The Remains,
Jacob Miller,
Susan Cadogan,
Magazine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Pus,
Panda Bear,
Siglo XX,
K-Klass,
Eurythmics,
Don Cherry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Camouflage,
Cluster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bootsy Collins,
Jerry's Kids,
Pole,
Alison Limerick,
Archie Shepp,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.