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 El Salvador and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator 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 Oblivians to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
48th St. Collective,
Deepchord,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dirtbombs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Radiopuhelimet,
Y Pants,
Colin Newman,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Durutti Column,
The Red Krayola,
The Slits,
The Misunderstood,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Organ,
the Soft Cell,
Gong,
JFA,
Rekid,
Ronan,
Nick Fraelich,
T.S.O.L.,
The Offenders,
Fad Gadget,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Altered Images,
Half Japanese,
The Golliwogs,
Malaria!,
The Monks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Aswad,
The Black Dice,
Susan Cadogan,
Andrew Hill,
Lyres,
Pere Ubu,
The Modern Lovers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Adolescents,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eve St. Jones,
Stetsasonic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bobby Sherman,
Roy Ayers,
The Cowsills,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gabor Szabo,
The New Christs,
UT,
cv313,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jeff Mills,
The Raincoats,
The Gap Band,
Godley & Creme,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.