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 Uruguay and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Saints to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ludus,
Funkadelic,
Davy DMX,
X-Ray Spex,
One Last Wish,
Dead Boys,
Erasure,
Archie Shepp,
Kurtis Blow,
Lebanon Hanover,
kango's stein massive,
Newcleus,
Zero Boys,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Electric Prunes,
Yellowson,
The Happenings,
Crime,
The Doors,
Howard Jones,
K-Klass,
The Remains,
Unrelated Segments,
Erykah Badu,
Charles Mingus,
Janne Schatter,
Neil Young,
Freddie Wadling,
The Buckinghams,
Banda Bassotti,
Kas Product,
Rufus Thomas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gichy Dan,
Accadde A,
Altered Images,
Warsaw,
Nico,
Reuben Wilson,
Scratch Acid,
Public Enemy,
Joensuu 1685,
The Angels of Light,
Sparks,
Ultra Naté,
Jacob Miller,
Black Moon,
Nik Kershaw,
Slick Rick,
Depeche Mode,
Lower 48,
Goldenarms,
Monks,
Aural Exciters,
Andrew Hill,
Hoover,
Visage,
Second Layer,
Alison Limerick,
Radio Birdman,
Pulsallama,
Cecil Taylor,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.