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 Cape Verde and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
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 arpeggiator 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 The Raincoats to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wings,
Nik Kershaw,
Piero Umiliani,
Jacques Brel,
Newcleus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
B.T. Express,
Radiopuhelimet,
ABC,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eddi Front,
Amon Düül II,
Popol Vuh,
Nick Fraelich,
John Lydon,
Quando Quango,
Pole,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Trumans Water,
Ronnie Foster,
June Days,
Q and Not U,
Minor Threat,
The Move,
Todd Rundgren,
Tomorrow,
Gong,
Scientists,
Eve St. Jones,
The Residents,
Archie Shepp,
The Dead C,
The Beau Brummels,
China Crisis,
Sam Rivers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
H. Thieme,
Charles Mingus,
Aswad,
Delon & Dalcan,
This Heat,
The Slits,
Eden Ahbez,
The Mojo Men,
Zero Boys,
Hot Snakes,
Danielle Patucci,
the Normal,
Groovy Waters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kerri Chandler,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tears for Fears,
Surgeon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gang Green,
Ralphi Rosario,
Godley & Creme,
Scan 7,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.