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 Germany and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sarah Menescal to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Unwound,
Joe Finger,
The American Breed,
Ten City,
The Fall,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brick,
Arthur Verocai,
Aswad,
Jerry's Kids,
Adolescents,
The Moleskins,
The Beau Brummels,
Siglo XX,
Scrapy,
Wire,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stiv Bators,
AZ,
Grauzone,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rufus Thomas,
Jandek,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
June Days,
Al Stewart,
Black Sheep,
Harmonia,
Lindisfarne,
Blake Baxter,
John Foxx,
Harry Pussy,
The Move,
Lalo Schifrin,
Slave,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Donald Byrd,
Circle Jerks,
Kurtis Blow,
Camberwell Now,
The Names,
Grey Daturas,
Amon Düül,
Q65,
MC5,
Morten Harket,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
E-Dancer,
the Normal,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skarface,
Minutemen,
Ituana,
Boz Scaggs,
The Moody Blues,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.