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 Turkey and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 L. Decosne to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Rosa Yemen,
The Golliwogs,
Cybotron,
Harry Pussy,
EPMD,
Darondo,
Peter and Kerry,
Lindisfarne,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Sheep,
K-Klass,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bad Manners,
Alton Ellis,
The Fire Engines,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
World's Most,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cal Tjader,
Eve St. Jones,
The Invisible,
Kenny Larkin,
Skaos,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun Ra,
the Human League,
Los Fastidios,
Erasure,
The Moody Blues,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Barracudas,
Dorothy Ashby,
Absolute Body Control,
Massinfluence,
Pylon,
Scratch Acid,
Terry Callier,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deepchord,
Erykah Badu,
Mark Hollis,
Byron Stingily,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Q65,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hasil Adkins,
Ludus,
MDC,
Bauhaus,
The Dirtbombs,
Wasted Youth,
The Litter,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.