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 Benin and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron 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 Boredoms to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Television Personalities,
Camouflage,
Whodini,
Henry Cow,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ponytail,
Animal Collective,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The United States of America,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dennis Brown,
Bluetip,
Aswad,
Icehouse,
Joyce Sims,
Cymande,
10cc,
Buzzcocks,
Peter and Kerry,
Motorama,
James White and The Blacks,
DNA,
Fugazi,
Barrington Levy,
Parry Music,
Drexciya,
Ohio Players,
Wolf Eyes,
Skarface,
Rotary Connection,
Sight & Sound,
The Music Machine,
Mad Mike,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Easy Going,
UT,
Curtis Mayfield,
Monks,
Ten City,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sexual Harrassment,
Underground Resistance,
The Fuzztones,
Royal Trux,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ludus,
Radio Birdman,
Terry Callier,
The Dead C,
The Shadows of Knight,
Robert Görl,
The Busters,
Porter Ricks,
One Last Wish,
The Gun Club,
Von Mondo,
Cecil Taylor,
Josef K,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.