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 Finland and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba 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 Monks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Byron Stingily,
The Gun Club,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Camberwell Now,
Lyres,
Infiniti,
the Association,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aaron Thompson,
Joyce Sims,
Magma,
Jeru the Damaja,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Das Ding,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Fania All-Stars,
DJ Sneak,
Blancmange,
Zapp,
CMW,
Liliput,
Ronan,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Raincoats,
Sällskapet,
Quadrant,
L. Decosne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Busters,
The Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
A Certain Ratio,
Rapeman,
Ponytail,
Moebius,
Ossler,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
a-ha,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Schoolly D,
John Cale,
Dual Sessions,
Magazine,
Half Japanese,
Qualms,
Banda Bassotti,
Young Marble Giants,
Kenny Larkin,
Scan 7,
Mad Mike,
Sugar Minott,
the Bar-Kays,
Gabor Szabo,
Funkadelic,
The Sonics,
Jeff Lynne,
Robert Görl,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Radiohead,
Wire,
Neu!,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.