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 Colombia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Y Pants to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Todd Terry,
Section 25,
Symarip,
Crime,
Altered Images,
Todd Rundgren,
Make Up,
The Moleskins,
The Star Department,
Barrington Levy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barry Ungar,
Youth Brigade,
Ken Boothe,
Goldenarms,
Jawbox,
Thompson Twins,
Pierre Henry,
Sonic Youth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Spandau Ballet,
F. McDonald,
Wasted Youth,
Agitation Free,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythm & Sound,
Basic Channel,
Pere Ubu,
Fad Gadget,
the Sonics,
The Residents,
Arab on Radar,
Accadde A,
Soulsonic Force,
T.S.O.L.,
Maleditus Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Germs,
Eric Copeland,
Swell Maps,
Deepchord,
The Red Krayola,
Jimmy McGriff,
Angry Samoans,
The Standells,
Babytalk,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Bananas,
Amon Düül II,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mary Jane Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
ABBA,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Wyatt,
DJ Sneak,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.