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 Bahamas and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Gastr Del Sol to the funk 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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
48th St. Collective,
Scrapy,
Yazoo,
Alice Coltrane,
The Associates,
Byron Stingily,
The Standells,
Aloha Tigers,
The Names,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marshall Jefferson,
Harmonia,
Quando Quango,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultra Naté,
Public Enemy,
Flash Fearless,
The Golliwogs,
Nik Kershaw,
Rotary Connection,
Marine Girls,
Animal Collective,
The Doobie Brothers,
Los Fastidios,
Second Layer,
Fear,
Altered Images,
The Mojo Men,
The Busters,
ABBA,
John Coltrane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Davy DMX,
Bizarre Inc.,
Big Daddy Kane,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Connie Case,
Buzzcocks,
Cybotron,
Yusef Lateef,
Janne Schatter,
Lindisfarne,
JFA,
Desert Stars,
Kas Product,
Todd Rundgren,
Soft Machine,
FM Einheit,
Ohio Players,
The Stooges,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Techniques,
The Gun Club,
Jeff Mills,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Swans,
Make Up,
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.