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 Kiribati and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Cybotron to the techno 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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Swell Maps,
One Last Wish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Holt,
Index,
The Walker Brothers,
Sound Behaviour,
Pole,
Yaz,
DJ Sneak,
Lou Christie,
The Fuzztones,
Alice Coltrane,
Sam Rivers,
New Order,
Nico,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Little Man,
John Foxx,
the Bar-Kays,
Neu!,
Byron Stingily,
Maleditus Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pere Ubu,
Pantytec,
Zero Boys,
Eddi Front,
Marc Almond,
James White and The Blacks,
China Crisis,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
KRS-One,
Ken Boothe,
Lee Hazlewood,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Suicide,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultra Naté,
The Slackers,
Rod Modell,
L. Decosne,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Byrd,
Visage,
Archie Shepp,
Main Source,
Mark Hollis,
Scientists,
Bill Wells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Faust,
Fat Boys,
Country Teasers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.