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 Bahrain and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Electric Light Orchestra to the techno 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fear,
The Last Poets,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Grey Daturas,
Ronnie Foster,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Silicon Teens,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ohio Players,
The Moody Blues,
Yazoo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Radio Birdman,
Alphaville,
Flamin' Groovies,
Smog,
Eric Copeland,
Lungfish,
Harry Pussy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Carl Craig,
Minny Pops,
Guru Guru,
Das Ding,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Foxx,
Bush Tetras,
Rosa Yemen,
Morten Harket,
Altered Images,
The Black Dice,
Eddi Front,
Michelle Simonal,
Lindisfarne,
Mandrill,
the Soft Cell,
The Buckinghams,
Fad Gadget,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Pus,
Avey Tare,
Yellowson,
Gabor Szabo,
Los Fastidios,
The Gun Club,
Drive Like Jehu,
Agitation Free,
Rotary Connection,
Jandek,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Young Rascals,
PIL,
the Sonics,
Animal Collective,
The Searchers,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.