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 Mali and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 Sister Nancy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Mr. Review,
Lou Christie,
Kayak,
Rod Modell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minutemen,
Stiv Bators,
Albert Ayler,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DJ Style,
Anakelly,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Neon Judgement,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Black Flag,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Little Man,
Talk Talk,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Modern Lovers,
Accadde A,
Pussy Galore,
Bill Near,
Mantronix,
Newcleus,
Chrome,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Swans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joey Negro,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Slits,
The Velvet Underground,
The Beau Brummels,
Dual Sessions,
Ludus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pulsallama,
Ken Boothe,
Roxette,
Parry Music,
Juan Atkins,
Circle Jerks,
Reuben Wilson,
Adolescents,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Remains,
CMW,
Barbara Tucker,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stetsasonic,
Animal Collective,
Panda Bear,
kango's stein massive,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Zapp,
Graham Central Station,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.