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 Saudi Arabia and from Spokane.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe 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 Rites of Spring to the grime 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gladiators,
The Standells,
Anakelly,
Duran Duran,
Vladislav Delay,
Dead Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kayak,
The Cramps,
Bang On A Can,
EPMD,
Grandmaster Flash,
Camberwell Now,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barbara Tucker,
Fugazi,
David McCallum,
CMW,
Circle Jerks,
UT,
Parry Music,
The Invisible,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ronnie Foster,
The Skatalites,
Agent Orange,
This Heat,
Tommy Roe,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cluster,
The Raincoats,
The Divine Comedy,
the Slits,
Hasil Adkins,
Liliput,
Desert Stars,
Fad Gadget,
Deadbeat,
Clear Light,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Khruangbin,
Junior Murvin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Au Pairs,
Bootsy Collins,
Royal Trux,
The Smiths,
Roy Ayers,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Christie,
Wings,
T.S.O.L.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Neil Young,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.