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 Bulgaria and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Todd Terry to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
The Raincoats,
Barry Ungar,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deadbeat,
Fatback Band,
Fluxion,
Byron Stingily,
Duran Duran,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Faraquet,
The Invisible,
The Searchers,
T. Rex,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Amon Düül II,
Loose Ends,
Steve Hackett,
Sugar Minott,
New Order,
Stereo Dub,
The American Breed,
Kayak,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Christie,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gun Club,
Wasted Youth,
The United States of America,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pere Ubu,
The Knickerbockers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Warren Ellis,
The Remains,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-102,
Brick,
Spoonie Gee,
the Human League,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crime,
The Wake,
U.S. Maple,
Main Source,
Patti Smith,
Swell Maps,
Lyres,
Hashim,
DJ Sneak,
Erykah Badu,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bauhaus,
Lalo Schifrin,
T.S.O.L.,
Chris & Cosey,
Jawbox,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fall,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
D'Angelo,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.