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 Serbia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb 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 H. Thieme to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Lou Christie,
The Black Dice,
X-102,
Ice-T,
The Selecter,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rosa Yemen,
Howard Jones,
Albert Ayler,
Mr. Review,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
The Dave Clark Five,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crime,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
The Skatalites,
Bluetip,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joensuu 1685,
Basic Channel,
Donald Byrd,
The Gap Band,
Pylon,
The Buckinghams,
Bill Near,
Porter Ricks,
Mission of Burma,
Archie Shepp,
This Heat,
Quando Quango,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Amon Düül II,
Shoche,
Deakin,
Gang Starr,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Chris Corsano,
Angry Samoans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pulsallama,
Nils Olav,
Eve St. Jones,
Jandek,
Traffic Nightmare,
Alice Coltrane,
Bad Manners,
Minny Pops,
Man Parrish,
Minutemen,
EPMD,
Nico,
Black Moon,
Ultravox,
Model 500,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun City Girls,
Little Man,
The Martian,
Danielle Patucci,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.