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 Hungary and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Portland and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Litter to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Josef K,
The Victims,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Altered Images,
Kerri Chandler,
Hardrive,
Crooked Eye,
The Gories,
Unrelated Segments,
Suicide,
Public Enemy,
Harry Pussy,
The Kinks,
Negative Approach,
Slave,
Kurtis Blow,
Monks,
The Fuzztones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
Porter Ricks,
Brick,
Procol Harum,
Blancmange,
The Misunderstood,
The J.B.'s,
Cheater Slicks,
Mantronix,
Yazoo,
Scratch Acid,
The Sound,
The Remains,
Howard Jones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Y Pants,
Charles Mingus,
Fear,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hoover,
Trumans Water,
The Vogues,
Essential Logic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kenny Larkin,
Carl Craig,
Joensuu 1685,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sun City Girls,
UT,
The Moody Blues,
Bad Manners,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pagans,
F. McDonald,
Barrington Levy,
Alison Limerick,
Quando Quango,
Schoolly D,
A Flock of Seagulls,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.