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 Kyrgyzstan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare 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 Piero Umiliani to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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,
Royal Trux,
Tomorrow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Visage,
Model 500,
B.T. Express,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marmalade,
Average White Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Yazoo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moss Icon,
Liliput,
Crooked Eye,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Young Rascals,
Jerry Gold Smith,
48th St. Collective,
Joey Negro,
Tom Boy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rod Modell,
Zero Boys,
The Sound,
China Crisis,
Hoover,
The Cure,
Malaria!,
Monolake,
Audionom,
Wings,
Dawn Penn,
Henry Cow,
Freddie Wadling,
Skaos,
Guru Guru,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jacques Brel,
Gabor Szabo,
MDC,
kango's stein massive,
Brass Construction,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Zeros,
Jeff Lynne,
Iggy Pop,
Joensuu 1685,
Lower 48,
Ornette Coleman,
Marvin Gaye,
CMW,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Man Parrish,
The Fuzztones,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.