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 San Marino and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Suburban Knight 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
The Leaves,
F. McDonald,
The Buckinghams,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
DJ Style,
The New Christs,
Goldenarms,
Warren Ellis,
T. Rex,
Malaria!,
Quando Quango,
Marc Almond,
Visage,
Gong,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stereo Dub,
Tom Boy,
Faust,
Basic Channel,
Fatback Band,
Josef K,
Sam Rivers,
The Birthday Party,
The Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nils Olav,
The Vogues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Slits,
Letta Mbulu,
The United States of America,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arab on Radar,
Andrew Hill,
Hashim,
Mr. Review,
Television Personalities,
Nick Fraelich,
Q65,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Grass Roots,
Deadbeat,
Skriet,
The Durutti Column,
Monks,
Graham Central Station,
Erasure,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Warsaw,
Jimmy McGriff,
New Age Steppers,
Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
Skaos,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Radiopuhelimet,
Byron Stingily,
Lungfish,
New Order,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.