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 Tonga and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dual Sessions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Move,
The Fuzztones,
The Real Kids,
Eurythmics,
Swell Maps,
The Human League,
Scan 7,
AZ,
Cluster,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Monolake,
Rufus Thomas,
cv313,
The Fall,
Soul Sonic Force,
Das Ding,
Rotary Connection,
Masters at Work,
Rites of Spring,
Sam Rivers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sound Behaviour,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultra Naté,
E-Dancer,
Make Up,
X-101,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Amon Düül,
Pylon,
Von Mondo,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Dead C,
The Electric Prunes,
Accadde A,
Wally Richardson,
Desert Stars,
Interpol,
Brothers Johnson,
Rapeman,
Godley & Creme,
Malaria!,
The Moody Blues,
Jeff Mills,
Black Bananas,
The Doors,
Janne Schatter,
Zapp,
T. Rex,
Mr. Review,
The Residents,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Guru Guru,
Mary Jane Girls,
Todd Terry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.