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 Algeria 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Alton Ellis to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
The Golliwogs,
Kayak,
Heaven 17,
Average White Band,
The Dead C,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Faraquet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Reuben Wilson,
The Count Five,
The Happenings,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lalann,
Neu!,
Yazoo,
Roxette,
Motorama,
Television,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Delta 5,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thee Headcoats,
The Invisible,
Swell Maps,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Green,
Donald Byrd,
Max Romeo,
Jawbox,
Graham Central Station,
Newcleus,
Dave Gahan,
Shoche,
Sister Nancy,
Minnie Riperton,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Hood,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quadrant,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Red Krayola,
Model 500,
Tom Boy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Accadde A,
John Holt,
Chrome,
The Misunderstood,
Pere Ubu,
Harry Pussy,
Aaron Thompson,
Sparks,
Mr. Review,
Soul II Soul,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.