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 Korea South and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Velvet Underground to the disco 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
The Sound,
Fear,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Motorama,
Trumans Water,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Television,
Funkadelic,
EPMD,
The Music Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Essential Logic,
The Pretty Things,
Con Funk Shun,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alice Coltrane,
Eric Copeland,
The Sonics,
The Fugs,
Patti Smith,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crime,
Siglo XX,
The Evens,
The Walker Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Little Man,
Wolf Eyes,
Graham Central Station,
Bill Near,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ossler,
Pole,
Crispian St. Peters,
Clear Light,
Young Marble Giants,
Mary Jane Girls,
Chris Corsano,
FM Einheit,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terrestrial Tones,
Man Parrish,
Niagra,
Bob Dylan,
48th St. Collective,
Blake Baxter,
Hashim,
K-Klass,
Harry Pussy,
Flipper,
Howard Jones,
Charles Mingus,
X-102,
The Fire Engines,
Theoretical Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Reed,
The Flesh Eaters,
Schoolly D,
Wally Richardson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.