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 Tanzania and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 New Age Steppers to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
Loose Ends,
Hashim,
Scientists,
Stetsasonic,
Malaria!,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Martian,
The Music Machine,
The Barracudas,
Goldenarms,
Drexciya,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scott Walker,
Juan Atkins,
Zero Boys,
Trumans Water,
Matthew Bourne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Altered Images,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boogie Down Productions,
Boz Scaggs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arthur Verocai,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Skaos,
Mission of Burma,
Basic Channel,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Slits,
Funkadelic,
Toni Rubio,
Panda Bear,
A Certain Ratio,
Visage,
Kenny Larkin,
Scan 7,
Ituana,
Soft Cell,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Q65,
Iggy Pop,
Cameo,
Audionom,
Dual Sessions,
The Move,
The Modern Lovers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eden Ahbez,
Monolake,
Hot Snakes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Urselle,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Avey Tare,
CMW,
Andrew Hill,
Unwound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Agitation Free,
Donald Byrd,
Cluster,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.