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 Mongolia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Byron Stingily to the grunge 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
The Zeros,
Barry Ungar,
Desert Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Susan Cadogan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The American Breed,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Liliput,
Ossler,
Cluster,
Bobby Byrd,
Camberwell Now,
The Stooges,
Aural Exciters,
Neu!,
Harry Pussy,
Index,
Boogie Down Productions,
Magma,
Alice Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
a-ha,
John Holt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sixth Finger,
Smog,
Joy Division,
Eric Dolphy,
Patti Smith,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Silicon Teens,
Bobby Sherman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Reagan Youth,
Jeff Lynne,
Crash Course in Science,
Bush Tetras,
Crooked Eye,
Fatback Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bootsy Collins,
Todd Rundgren,
Organ,
One Last Wish,
Althea and Donna,
Grauzone,
Danielle Patucci,
Roger Hodgson,
Kayak,
the Fania All-Stars,
Michelle Simonal,
Moss Icon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Blake Baxter,
Judy Mowatt,
Kaleidoscope,
Quantec,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.