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 France and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the grime 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Throbbing Gristle,
F. McDonald,
Minutemen,
Scratch Acid,
Dawn Penn,
The Gories,
Joe Smooth,
Carl Craig,
Blancmange,
Y Pants,
Guru Guru,
The Electric Prunes,
Chris Corsano,
Marine Girls,
Yellowson,
The Divine Comedy,
Judy Mowatt,
Bad Manners,
Boz Scaggs,
The American Breed,
Symarip,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pylon,
Sixth Finger,
Erykah Badu,
Dennis Brown,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brothers Johnson,
Von Mondo,
The Gun Club,
Black Flag,
Crooked Eye,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fortunes,
B.T. Express,
the Human League,
Rites of Spring,
Rotary Connection,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fatback Band,
The Fall,
Janne Schatter,
Anthony Braxton,
Metal Thangz,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kenny Larkin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yazoo,
Liliput,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crash Course in Science,
The Human League,
The Moody Blues,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cluster,
Colin Newman,
In Retrospect,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Neon Judgement,
Henry Cow,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.