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 Laos and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Yusef Lateef to the electroclash 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Essential Logic,
The Raincoats,
The Modern Lovers,
Panda Bear,
Erasure,
Trumans Water,
The Electric Prunes,
Technova,
Ponytail,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mo-Dettes,
Judy Mowatt,
Infiniti,
Moebius,
Stetsasonic,
Eli Mardock,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Martian,
Grauzone,
Sex Pistols,
Sun Ra,
June Days,
DJ Sneak,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Beau Brummels,
Country Teasers,
Ten City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harpers Bizarre,
Q65,
Tropical Tobacco,
Andrew Hill,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Selecter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
KRS-One,
Sparks,
Joy Division,
Jeff Lynne,
The Searchers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fire Engines,
Royal Trux,
The Alarm Clocks,
U.S. Maple,
Sight & Sound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aural Exciters,
Pussy Galore,
the Germs,
L. Decosne,
X-102,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Move,
Reagan Youth,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Womack,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jesper Dahlback,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.