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 London.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Max Romeo to the funk 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Modern Lovers,
Television,
The Fall,
Joe Finger,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mars,
Nik Kershaw,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
kango's stein massive,
Niagra,
Harmonia,
Public Image Ltd.,
Public Enemy,
Grauzone,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultimate Spinach,
Unwound,
Spoonie Gee,
Bluetip,
The Sound,
Kas Product,
Con Funk Shun,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tears for Fears,
Mandrill,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ponytail,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Velvet Underground,
Sandy B,
Oblivians,
Japan,
Fugazi,
Cybotron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dave Gahan,
ABC,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Seeds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-Ray Spex,
Model 500,
The Buckinghams,
Cal Tjader,
Hardrive,
Lucky Dragons,
Sex Pistols,
Erykah Badu,
Letta Mbulu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Zero Boys,
The Happenings,
The Golliwogs,
Reuben Wilson,
Anthony Braxton,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.