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 Ivory Coast and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Freddie Wadling to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sister Nancy,
Lalann,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fall,
The Real Kids,
Alphaville,
Ice-T,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Agent Orange,
Peter & Gordon,
Albert Ayler,
D'Angelo,
The Golliwogs,
Wally Richardson,
The Monks,
Toni Rubio,
Johnny Clarke,
Warren Ellis,
Outsiders,
Tubeway Army,
Slave,
Zero Boys,
Prince Buster,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed,
Bang On A Can,
Soul II Soul,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Barry Ungar,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Basic Channel,
The Victims,
Gang of Four,
Ronan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Litter,
Rekid,
The Monochrome Set,
Skaos,
Blancmange,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cybotron,
The Seeds,
Scrapy,
Wings,
Minny Pops,
Q and Not U,
Moebius,
Wolf Eyes,
Technova,
The Trojans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ituana,
CMW,
Schoolly D,
Chris Corsano,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Sherman,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.