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 Afghanistan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Toasters to the grime 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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Joe Finger,
The Gun Club,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Smiths,
Pagans,
Porter Ricks,
Marvin Gaye,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Shuggie Otis,
Black Pus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
David McCallum,
The Angels of Light,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Intrusion,
The Move,
Freddie Wadling,
June of 44,
The Slits,
Don Cherry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ken Boothe,
Quantec,
ABBA,
Byron Stingily,
The Remains,
The Birthday Party,
48th St. Collective,
Danielle Patucci,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare,
The Sonics,
Moby Grape,
AZ,
Dawn Penn,
Kas Product,
Crooked Eye,
Gang Green,
B.T. Express,
Gabor Szabo,
Angry Samoans,
The Young Rascals,
Banda Bassotti,
Sonic Youth,
The Fire Engines,
Anakelly,
Pylon,
Interpol,
Rufus Thomas,
John Lydon,
World's Most,
Alice Coltrane,
Ultimate Spinach,
Isaac Hayes,
Symarip,
Second Layer,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Swans,
L. Decosne,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.