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 United States and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the disco 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare,
The Real Kids,
Suicide,
Dual Sessions,
Alice Coltrane,
Intrusion,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Basic Channel,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fugs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tears for Fears,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Malaria!,
Jeff Mills,
8 Eyed Spy,
The New Christs,
Bluetip,
Altered Images,
Jacques Brel,
Matthew Bourne,
Procol Harum,
PIL,
Model 500,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Josef K,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ossler,
Franke,
Agitation Free,
Fluxion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wolf Eyes,
Subhumans,
The Red Krayola,
ABC,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Peter and Kerry,
Rapeman,
Idris Muhammad,
Eve St. Jones,
Stereo Dub,
Technova,
Monolake,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Görl,
EPMD,
The Sonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Andrew Hill,
Pharoah Sanders,
AZ,
Matthew Halsall,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spandau Ballet,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.