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 Russia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eve St. Jones to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Ituana,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Audionom,
Spandau Ballet,
Crime,
Charles Mingus,
Television,
the Swans,
Grauzone,
The Barracudas,
The Durutti Column,
Wire,
Depeche Mode,
the Bar-Kays,
The Velvet Underground,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Slackers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
X-102,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brass Construction,
Pantaleimon,
Eric Copeland,
Black Bananas,
The Litter,
The Doors,
Blake Baxter,
Pussy Galore,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pulsallama,
These Immortal Souls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Names,
The Gun Club,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sugar Minott,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Star Department,
Tres Demented,
Altered Images,
Slave,
Saccharine Trust,
Ultravox,
The Knickerbockers,
Vladislav Delay,
Lucky Dragons,
Visage,
Rotary Connection,
Arab on Radar,
UT,
Erasure,
Amon Düül II,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stereo Dub,
Dual Sessions,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.