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 Jordan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eve St. Jones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Simply Red,
Qualms,
Suicide,
Inner City,
Crooked Eye,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Cramps,
Black Pus,
Radio Birdman,
Skriet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Skaos,
Avey Tare,
Stockholm Monsters,
Section 25,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DJ Style,
U.S. Maple,
The Black Dice,
The Remains,
Minor Threat,
Donny Hathaway,
Fat Boys,
Man Eating Sloth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Circle Jerks,
Wire,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Christie,
The Music Machine,
Index,
Sun Ra,
John Cale,
Livin' Joy,
The Tremeloes,
Das Ding,
Maurizio,
Matthew Halsall,
Leonard Cohen,
Crispy Ambulance,
Clear Light,
Jacob Miller,
Rotary Connection,
Slick Rick,
Monolake,
H. Thieme,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tom Boy,
Flipper,
Animal Collective,
The Monks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Echospace,
Public Enemy,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.