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 China and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ultimate Spinach to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Swans,
Joe Smooth,
Electric Prunes,
Shuggie Otis,
Nik Kershaw,
Loose Ends,
Liliput,
Nas,
Chris & Cosey,
The Barracudas,
The Walker Brothers,
Ronan,
The Wake,
The Human League,
Infiniti,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Robert Wyatt,
Scott Walker,
Groovy Waters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Young Marble Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Lou Christie,
Dawn Penn,
Glenn Branca,
Rapeman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Invisible,
The Smoke,
The Moleskins,
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare,
Desert Stars,
The Index,
Bill Wells,
Barry Ungar,
Funkadelic,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fire Engines,
Absolute Body Control,
Eli Mardock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Anthony Braxton,
Lungfish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Interpol,
Bush Tetras,
Deadbeat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The American Breed,
Swell Maps,
Eric Copeland,
Urselle,
Depeche Mode,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.