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 Burkina and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Barbara Tucker to the punk 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Parry Music,
Ten City,
The Index,
The Star Department,
The Dead C,
Warsaw,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Animal Collective,
the Soft Cell,
The Sonics,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Move,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeff Lynne,
Panda Bear,
Faraquet,
Brass Construction,
the Germs,
Television,
The Music Machine,
Zero Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
Black Flag,
Country Teasers,
The Trojans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Leonard Cohen,
The Stooges,
Yaz,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Shuggie Otis,
Derrick May,
Banda Bassotti,
The Human League,
Graham Central Station,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boz Scaggs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Los Fastidios,
Electric Prunes,
Grauzone,
Marine Girls,
The Smiths,
Altered Images,
The Wake,
The Beau Brummels,
Kas Product,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Cramps,
The Alarm Clocks,
Maleditus Sound,
Lou Reed,
Jawbox,
Skriet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Stiv Bators,
Wolf Eyes,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.