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 Argentina and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Man Eating Sloth to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
John Cale,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kerrie Biddell,
The J.B.'s,
The Smiths,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Pop Group,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeff Lynne,
D'Angelo,
F. McDonald,
Kayak,
China Crisis,
Gabor Szabo,
Porter Ricks,
Nirvana,
Khruangbin,
OOIOO,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra,
Terry Callier,
Hot Snakes,
Blake Baxter,
Mission of Burma,
The Seeds,
Todd Terry,
Agitation Free,
Sugar Minott,
Warren Ellis,
Schoolly D,
The Dirtbombs,
Cal Tjader,
Grey Daturas,
Guru Guru,
Oneida,
Angry Samoans,
Easy Going,
Donny Hathaway,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Dave Clark Five,
Urselle,
Albert Ayler,
The Kinks,
the Association,
The Grass Roots,
Spandau Ballet,
X-101,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Flag,
Pagans,
Fela Kuti,
Pole,
The Raincoats,
Faust,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slackers,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.