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 Indonesia and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Andrew Hill,
Jesper Dahlback,
T. Rex,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter and Kerry,
The Smiths,
Lyres,
Crime,
Crispian St. Peters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pole,
Cal Tjader,
Eddi Front,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Slits,
Vladislav Delay,
X-Ray Spex,
Howard Jones,
Funkadelic,
EPMD,
Mission of Burma,
Gastr Del Sol,
La Düsseldorf,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eric Dolphy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sex Pistols,
Black Flag,
The Residents,
Vainqueur,
Roger Hodgson,
AZ,
Cybotron,
Matthew Halsall,
Roxette,
Jimmy McGriff,
Average White Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Amon Düül,
Thee Headcoats,
Aural Exciters,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Busters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Human League,
Rakim,
Susan Cadogan,
Gabor Szabo,
Bronski Beat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Smoke,
Audionom,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nik Kershaw,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Royal Trux,
Gang of Four,
Soft Cell,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.