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 Tunisia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Malaria! to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Index,
Quantec,
Y Pants,
Bootsy Collins,
The Neon Judgement,
T. Rex,
Siglo XX,
A Certain Ratio,
Henry Cow,
Reuben Wilson,
Matthew Bourne,
Chrome,
The Happenings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Suburban Knight,
Dark Day,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Magazine,
Masters at Work,
Khruangbin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wire,
The Misunderstood,
Joey Negro,
Danielle Patucci,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roxette,
Kerri Chandler,
Audionom,
Brick,
Amon Düül,
Blossom Toes,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultravox,
Quadrant,
Bush Tetras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Invisible,
Fat Boys,
Cameo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Byron Stingily,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Outsiders,
Tomorrow,
Letta Mbulu,
Connie Case,
The Last Poets,
The Electric Prunes,
Little Man,
Sister Nancy,
H. Thieme,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Q65,
Absolute Body Control,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Coltrane,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Howard Jones,
The Smoke,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.