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 Serbia and from Bologna.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Pantaleimon,
Sixth Finger,
Skaos,
Patti Smith,
Chris Corsano,
the Germs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Smiths,
the Slits,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scientists,
Silicon Teens,
Saccharine Trust,
Wire,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Hood,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jawbox,
Glenn Branca,
48th St. Collective,
Althea and Donna,
Technova,
Unwound,
The Dead C,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Standells,
Marc Almond,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pierre Henry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aloha Tigers,
Theoretical Girls,
MDC,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
These Immortal Souls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Flipper,
The Music Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Oblivians,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DJ Sneak,
China Crisis,
Faraquet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fugazi,
Hardrive,
Index,
The Sound,
Henry Cow,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Names,
Tom Boy,
Monks,
Scratch Acid,
Rhythm & Sound,
A Certain Ratio,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.