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 Kyrgyzstan and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gladiators to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
The Searchers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bill Wells,
Man Parrish,
The Modern Lovers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Monolake,
Bang On A Can,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sister Nancy,
Young Marble Giants,
Section 25,
Sonny Sharrock,
X-101,
The Count Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Coltrane,
Sugar Minott,
Adolescents,
Babytalk,
Aaron Thompson,
The Golliwogs,
Pagans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rod Modell,
a-ha,
Masters at Work,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Can,
Clear Light,
These Immortal Souls,
Brand Nubian,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Misunderstood,
X-Ray Spex,
Donald Byrd,
Zapp,
Unwound,
Sight & Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eric Dolphy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Erasure,
Derrick Morgan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gastr Del Sol,
Newcleus,
Guru Guru,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Lydon,
Joey Negro,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Chris Corsano,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Real Kids,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.