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 Malawi and from Portland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Q and Not U to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
The Trojans,
Yusef Lateef,
Echospace,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marine Girls,
DJ Sneak,
The Red Krayola,
Bang On A Can,
Rakim,
Silicon Teens,
The Associates,
Joe Finger,
Qualms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Monolake,
Shuggie Otis,
Gabor Szabo,
Kaleidoscope,
Amon Düül II,
Tubeway Army,
H. Thieme,
Jeff Mills,
CMW,
L. Decosne,
Mandrill,
E-Dancer,
Gang Green,
Interpol,
Sonic Youth,
B.T. Express,
Wally Richardson,
DJ Style,
The Moleskins,
The Slits,
The Smiths,
Sam Rivers,
Alison Limerick,
Oneida,
the Sonics,
The Index,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Barracudas,
Henry Cow,
The Toasters,
Lightning Bolt,
Au Pairs,
The Divine Comedy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deadbeat,
Roxette,
James White and The Blacks,
Jacob Miller,
The Cure,
Joensuu 1685,
Archie Shepp,
Underground Resistance,
the Slits,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.