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 Singapore and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
B.T. Express,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kenny Larkin,
The Slackers,
Q and Not U,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cymande,
Easy Going,
The Cure,
Oblivians,
World's Most,
The Five Americans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gong,
Letta Mbulu,
Eden Ahbez,
Amon Düül II,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joey Negro,
Jerry's Kids,
Pagans,
Warsaw,
Pussy Galore,
Jandek,
Absolute Body Control,
Faraquet,
Dark Day,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bill Near,
New Order,
Junior Murvin,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lower 48,
MC5,
Isaac Hayes,
The Associates,
Ronnie Foster,
Marc Almond,
Sam Rivers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Donald Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Angry Samoans,
DJ Style,
Stereo Dub,
The Selecter,
The Victims,
Susan Cadogan,
Von Mondo,
Cameo,
AZ,
Subhumans,
Make Up,
Grey Daturas,
Aswad,
Jeff Mills,
Anthony Braxton,
The Zeros,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.