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 Marshall Islands and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar 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 Roger Hodgson to the jazz 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arthur Verocai,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Flag,
Main Source,
Black Pus,
Chris & Cosey,
kango's stein massive,
Bang On A Can,
Junior Murvin,
D'Angelo,
EPMD,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Second Layer,
the Swans,
The Litter,
The Gun Club,
Quantec,
Franke,
Interpol,
48th St. Collective,
The Techniques,
Schoolly D,
The Evens,
Hashim,
Brass Construction,
Pierre Henry,
Jandek,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dead C,
The Motions,
Q and Not U,
Duran Duran,
the Slits,
The Busters,
Oblivians,
The Beau Brummels,
Nils Olav,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Durutti Column,
Skaos,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeff Lynne,
Nick Fraelich,
The Music Machine,
Index,
The Real Kids,
The Buckinghams,
Eli Mardock,
Rakim,
The Monks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
MC5,
The Count Five,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Vogues,
The Doobie Brothers,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.