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 Jordan and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the grime 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crooked Eye,
Excepter,
Howard Jones,
The Last Poets,
The Raincoats,
Aural Exciters,
Ultravox,
Flipper,
ABC,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Sonics,
The Barracudas,
Quantec,
Radiohead,
OOIOO,
Henry Cow,
Darondo,
Delon & Dalcan,
X-102,
La Düsseldorf,
Ponytail,
Wally Richardson,
Slick Rick,
The Blues Magoos,
The Red Krayola,
R.M.O.,
Circle Jerks,
Eddi Front,
The Dave Clark Five,
Unrelated Segments,
Flash Fearless,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Guru Guru,
World's Most,
JFA,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Depeche Mode,
The Beau Brummels,
Ken Boothe,
Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jacob Miller,
Erykah Badu,
Qualms,
A Certain Ratio,
Motorama,
Pantytec,
The Fugs,
Angry Samoans,
CMW,
UT,
The Monks,
Little Man,
Jeff Lynne,
Laurel Aitken,
The Associates,
Swans,
Nick Fraelich,
Au Pairs,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.