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 Egypt and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Fela Kuti to the disco 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Ultravox,
Gang Starr,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Misunderstood,
Shoche,
Infiniti,
Minny Pops,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roy Ayers,
Anakelly,
A Certain Ratio,
Goldenarms,
Scientists,
Bobby Byrd,
Jeff Lynne,
The Mojo Men,
LL Cool J,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jawbox,
Sixth Finger,
Funkadelic,
Fat Boys,
Fugazi,
CMW,
Hoover,
Kenny Larkin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Idris Muhammad,
Slick Rick,
Angry Samoans,
The Slackers,
Alison Limerick,
The Electric Prunes,
Stiv Bators,
Johnny Clarke,
Massinfluence,
Anthony Braxton,
The Human League,
KRS-One,
Charles Mingus,
Nick Fraelich,
Rosa Yemen,
Dave Gahan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
Camouflage,
Hashim,
Hardrive,
Gabor Szabo,
Amon Düül II,
Aswad,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
PIL,
the Bar-Kays,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moleskins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Remains,
The American Breed,
E-Dancer,
Yazoo,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.