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 Malaysia and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Don Cherry to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
The Count Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
U.S. Maple,
China Crisis,
John Lydon,
Slick Rick,
Lungfish,
Erykah Badu,
Black Sheep,
Crash Course in Science,
Groovy Waters,
Junior Murvin,
The Gladiators,
Cybotron,
Gil Scott Heron,
Can,
T. Rex,
Charles Mingus,
Peter and Kerry,
The Sonics,
Accadde A,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Anthony Braxton,
Alison Limerick,
Brothers Johnson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Raincoats,
New York Dolls,
Camberwell Now,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare,
Wings,
The Residents,
Basic Channel,
Morten Harket,
the Bar-Kays,
Average White Band,
Grauzone,
Funky Four + One,
Marvin Gaye,
Iggy Pop,
Joey Negro,
Spandau Ballet,
Nas,
Scion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mummies,
The Golliwogs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alice Coltrane,
Suburban Knight,
Theoretical Girls,
In Retrospect,
Section 25,
Rites of Spring,
Idris Muhammad,
Chris & Cosey,
Sun Ra,
The Gories,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.