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 Luxembourg and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
The Pop Group,
Roxette,
Crispy Ambulance,
Khruangbin,
Severed Heads,
Hasil Adkins,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Womack,
Jandek,
Scott Walker,
Suicide,
Johnny Clarke,
Reuben Wilson,
Chris & Cosey,
The Smiths,
Ultravox,
Fela Kuti,
Neil Young,
Mad Mike,
Fatback Band,
Drexciya,
48th St. Collective,
10cc,
Susan Cadogan,
Simply Red,
Fad Gadget,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Todd Terry,
Gastr Del Sol,
T. Rex,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sister Nancy,
Qualms,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bootsy Collins,
B.T. Express,
Radio Birdman,
Deakin,
Mary Jane Girls,
Country Teasers,
Sarah Menescal,
Anakelly,
Alice Coltrane,
Rakim,
The Young Rascals,
Gang of Four,
Bluetip,
The Durutti Column,
The Cramps,
Cybotron,
Sun Ra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wings,
the Swans,
Black Moon,
Chrome,
Eric B and Rakim,
Arcadia,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.