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 Palau and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fall to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Leonard Cohen,
Theoretical Girls,
Easy Going,
Spandau Ballet,
Brand Nubian,
James White and The Blacks,
X-102,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Motorama,
The Pop Group,
F. McDonald,
Index,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roger Hodgson,
Youth Brigade,
Chris Corsano,
Roxy Music,
Guru Guru,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rites of Spring,
Vainqueur,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Junior Murvin,
The Smiths,
Quantec,
Nik Kershaw,
LL Cool J,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Brothers Johnson,
Morten Harket,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stetsasonic,
Juan Atkins,
Make Up,
The Doobie Brothers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Swell Maps,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tom Boy,
Pantaleimon,
the Swans,
Pussy Galore,
The Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kerri Chandler,
Surgeon,
DJ Sneak,
The Seeds,
Suicide,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kaleidoscope,
Minnie Riperton,
Hasil Adkins,
Minor Threat,
Smog,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.