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 Latvia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Monks to the electroclash 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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The Count Five,
Lakeside,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Traffic Nightmare,
Buzzcocks,
The Blackbyrds,
E-Dancer,
The Monks,
The Star Department,
Al Stewart,
Sun City Girls,
Talk Talk,
Mandrill,
Deadbeat,
The Buckinghams,
Fatback Band,
The Red Krayola,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pere Ubu,
The Young Rascals,
Television,
Yusef Lateef,
Judy Mowatt,
Spandau Ballet,
Sixth Finger,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eurythmics,
Alison Limerick,
Pylon,
David Axelrod,
Adolescents,
The Evens,
LL Cool J,
Colin Newman,
KRS-One,
The Fortunes,
Zero Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Matthew Halsall,
Drive Like Jehu,
Laurel Aitken,
New Order,
Ohio Players,
The Fall,
Underground Resistance,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Green,
The Golliwogs,
Darondo,
L. Decosne,
Lebanon Hanover,
Procol Harum,
The Detroit Cobras,
Supertramp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Frankie Knuckles,
Chrome,
Matthew Bourne,
Kas Product,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.