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 Mongolia and from Glasgow.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Jakarta.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 U.S. Maple to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Circle Jerks,
Grey Daturas,
Barrington Levy,
Mars,
Surgeon,
Tears for Fears,
Sparks,
the Bar-Kays,
Prince Buster,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Fuzztones,
Judy Mowatt,
Popol Vuh,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Swans,
Desert Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cramps,
Kool Moe Dee,
Laurel Aitken,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barry Ungar,
X-101,
Arthur Verocai,
Althea and Donna,
Country Teasers,
Sex Pistols,
The Kinks,
Sonic Youth,
Lalann,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerri Chandler,
Lakeside,
The Fortunes,
Rekid,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gories,
Ultravox,
Bad Manners,
Minny Pops,
Jerry's Kids,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scrapy,
Tim Buckley,
The Names,
Kas Product,
DJ Sneak,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Little Man,
The Gun Club,
Gong,
Make Up,
LL Cool J,
Mandrill,
Arab on Radar,
Ossler,
Slick Rick,
Gang of Four,
Hasil Adkins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Boogie Down Productions,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.