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 Korea North and from Jakarta.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Drive Like Jehu to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
The Monochrome Set,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Almond,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cheater Slicks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Ice-T,
Talk Talk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pussy Galore,
Minnie Riperton,
Adolescents,
Nirvana,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
JFA,
James White and The Blacks,
Juan Atkins,
Wasted Youth,
Mr. Review,
Echospace,
Whodini,
The Trojans,
The Pretty Things,
Youth Brigade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eric Copeland,
Joy Division,
The Mojo Men,
Traffic Nightmare,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DJ Style,
Thee Headcoats,
Livin' Joy,
Sugar Minott,
The Cowsills,
Scott Walker,
Soft Cell,
Cameo,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smiths,
E-Dancer,
Carl Craig,
Piero Umiliani,
Blake Baxter,
John Lydon,
Davy DMX,
Technova,
Radio Birdman,
Eric Dolphy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rites of Spring,
Ludus,
The Beau Brummels,
Nick Fraelich,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.