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 Belarus and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 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 Livin' Joy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Yaz,
These Immortal Souls,
Ultravox,
Intrusion,
Cybotron,
Joey Negro,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Index,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ken Boothe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Maleditus Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Faraquet,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Cure,
Duran Duran,
Amazonics,
Kenny Larkin,
Judy Mowatt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mummies,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Radio Birdman,
Ohio Players,
Stetsasonic,
Reuben Wilson,
Scratch Acid,
Bob Dylan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
the Germs,
Morten Harket,
Neu!,
Harmonia,
The Walker Brothers,
The Young Rascals,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nik Kershaw,
Agitation Free,
Amon Düül II,
Nirvana,
The Stooges,
Kurtis Blow,
Deakin,
Scrapy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Little Man,
Echospace,
The Raincoats,
Dave Gahan,
Roxette,
The Vogues,
Sandy B,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bootsy Collins,
Khruangbin,
Lower 48,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.