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 Iceland and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Fania All-Stars to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
David McCallum,
Kayak,
The American Breed,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fatback Band,
Josef K,
Loose Ends,
Mars,
EPMD,
Camouflage,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Beau Brummels,
Model 500,
The Angels of Light,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ronan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang Green,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Warren Ellis,
Boz Scaggs,
Nick Fraelich,
Grey Daturas,
Oblivians,
Sister Nancy,
Andrew Hill,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wally Richardson,
Pole,
Mo-Dettes,
Maurizio,
Scan 7,
Jimmy McGriff,
Liliput,
Technova,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Malaria!,
Mandrill,
Hot Snakes,
The Moleskins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cymande,
Graham Central Station,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Au Pairs,
Mantronix,
Aural Exciters,
Eden Ahbez,
the Human League,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Amazonics,
The Mummies,
The Star Department,
Rakim,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mission of Burma,
B.T. Express,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Q and Not U,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.