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 Belgium and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rufus Thomas,
Harpers Bizarre,
Susan Cadogan,
Khruangbin,
Barry Ungar,
Andrew Hill,
X-Ray Spex,
Scientists,
The Saints,
The United States of America,
Flipper,
Boz Scaggs,
Glenn Branca,
John Foxx,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Grass Roots,
Arcadia,
Yaz,
The American Breed,
Crime,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Davy DMX,
Jeff Lynne,
Barbara Tucker,
DJ Sneak,
Franke,
Gichy Dan,
The Fuzztones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Leonard Cohen,
Bad Manners,
Barrington Levy,
the Bar-Kays,
Public Image Ltd.,
June of 44,
Marcia Griffiths,
Stiv Bators,
Zero Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Angels of Light,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Slick Rick,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kenny Larkin,
Average White Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
B.T. Express,
The Litter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Animal Collective,
Maleditus Sound,
Lou Christie,
Thompson Twins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.