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 Slovenia and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
The Gladiators,
The Slits,
Excepter,
Procol Harum,
Maurizio,
The Selecter,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Sherman,
DNA,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Index,
Jawbox,
Blossom Toes,
Crooked Eye,
Kurtis Blow,
Accadde A,
Talk Talk,
Mad Mike,
Freddie Wadling,
Royal Trux,
The American Breed,
The Fugs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Can,
Michelle Simonal,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Moody Blues,
Simply Red,
Morten Harket,
Lungfish,
Scrapy,
Sonic Youth,
The Slackers,
Aaron Thompson,
Barbara Tucker,
Sister Nancy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gabor Szabo,
Animal Collective,
Reuben Wilson,
The Saints,
Patti Smith,
Cheater Slicks,
Nick Fraelich,
Spandau Ballet,
The United States of America,
LL Cool J,
Sparks,
Fela Kuti,
CMW,
Sam Rivers,
Anthony Braxton,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang of Four,
Absolute Body Control,
Agitation Free,
Rakim,
UT,
The Durutti Column,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.