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 Rwanda and from Philadelphia.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 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 The Happenings to the electroclash 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
The Birthday Party,
the Normal,
L. Decosne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sam Rivers,
The Leaves,
Marcia Griffiths,
Schoolly D,
Barrington Levy,
Bauhaus,
The Zeros,
Urselle,
The Fuzztones,
Con Funk Shun,
Delta 5,
Kaleidoscope,
Josef K,
Pere Ubu,
Ken Boothe,
Visage,
Fatback Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bang On A Can,
The Pop Group,
Wally Richardson,
The Real Kids,
Todd Rundgren,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rapeman,
The Names,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Quantec,
Kenny Larkin,
The Busters,
The Saints,
Stiv Bators,
Skriet,
Das Ding,
Surgeon,
Arab on Radar,
The Searchers,
Sun City Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Sister Nancy,
Little Man,
Hashim,
Severed Heads,
Wings,
Lou Christie,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eli Mardock,
New Order,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Darondo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Clear Light,
Mission of Burma,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
X-Ray Spex,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Cale,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.