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 Tunisia and from New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Salvador.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Quantec to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Heaven 17,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Index,
Jawbox,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tomorrow,
Agitation Free,
Y Pants,
Sonic Youth,
The Doors,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-102,
Cecil Taylor,
Swell Maps,
ABBA,
Sound Behaviour,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scrapy,
FM Einheit,
Soft Cell,
Gang Green,
Banda Bassotti,
Icehouse,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick Morgan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nik Kershaw,
Donald Byrd,
Bobby Womack,
Quantec,
Urselle,
Thee Headcoats,
Massinfluence,
Underground Resistance,
Shuggie Otis,
Buzzcocks,
KRS-One,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lungfish,
Bob Dylan,
Mad Mike,
The Divine Comedy,
Half Japanese,
The Golliwogs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kurtis Blow,
Pagans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siglo XX,
Franke,
Neu!,
The Barracudas,
The Dirtbombs,
Don Cherry,
Outsiders,
The Wake,
Unrelated Segments,
Flipper,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.