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 Lebanon and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Scientists,
The Toasters,
Gang of Four,
Goldenarms,
Nirvana,
Masters at Work,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Smog,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Guru Guru,
Juan Atkins,
X-102,
Kool Moe Dee,
Shoche,
The Misunderstood,
Steve Hackett,
Thompson Twins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bronski Beat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultravox,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Names,
MDC,
Vladislav Delay,
Fatback Band,
The Birthday Party,
the Slits,
The Cramps,
Fugazi,
The Barracudas,
Bobby Womack,
David Bowie,
Alton Ellis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Essential Logic,
Y Pants,
Parry Music,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cybotron,
Electric Prunes,
Graham Central Station,
Jandek,
Kayak,
Deadbeat,
Metal Thangz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Black Dice,
The Flesh Eaters,
Blake Baxter,
Judy Mowatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Faraquet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Brass Construction,
Spandau Ballet,
Bootsy Collins,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.