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 Burkina and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Gil Scott Heron to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Bar-Kays,
Connie Case,
Pagans,
Sun Ra,
The Young Rascals,
The Index,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Slits,
Interpol,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Alphaville,
Wire,
The Birthday Party,
Arab on Radar,
Funkadelic,
New Age Steppers,
Gang of Four,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mary Jane Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
Kas Product,
The Count Five,
Dave Gahan,
The Kinks,
Black Pus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Groovy Waters,
Saccharine Trust,
Max Romeo,
Metal Thangz,
T. Rex,
Sex Pistols,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dead Boys,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Byrd,
The Monks,
David McCallum,
Joey Negro,
New Order,
Talk Talk,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Vogues,
The Selecter,
Erasure,
Wasted Youth,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Searchers,
Eurythmics,
Josef K,
Agent Orange,
Absolute Body Control,
Thee Headcoats,
The Offenders,
B.T. Express,
Simply Red,
Aaron Thompson,
The Zeros,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.