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 Zimbabwe and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the organ 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 Arthur Verocai to the techno 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camberwell Now,
The Blackbyrds,
Judy Mowatt,
Animal Collective,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mark Hollis,
Gichy Dan,
The Gap Band,
Silicon Teens,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Starr,
the Slits,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Urselle,
Robert Görl,
June Days,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris & Cosey,
Adolescents,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Althea and Donna,
Cybotron,
Arab on Radar,
Gang Green,
Surgeon,
Pussy Galore,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Golliwogs,
The Leaves,
Todd Rundgren,
Gong,
Barclay James Harvest,
Grauzone,
Sun Ra,
Deadbeat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Chrome,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rekid,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Slave,
Ken Boothe,
The Names,
Susan Cadogan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Absolute Body Control,
Aloha Tigers,
The Standells,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eric Copeland,
The Birthday Party,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Invisible,
Scrapy,
Monks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Funkadelic,
Ice-T,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.