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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro 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 Man Eating Sloth to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
Tropical Tobacco,
Toni Rubio,
Joy Division,
Moby Grape,
Mr. Review,
John Lydon,
48th St. Collective,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang On A Can,
Unrelated Segments,
Radio Birdman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Smoke,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Amon Düül II,
Quantec,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cramps,
Johnny Clarke,
Arthur Verocai,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Associates,
Arab on Radar,
Organ,
Tears for Fears,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gong,
Chris Corsano,
Echospace,
Tim Buckley,
MDC,
Sight & Sound,
The Misunderstood,
Barbara Tucker,
Grauzone,
Shuggie Otis,
Sun City Girls,
Slick Rick,
Depeche Mode,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Doors,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Blues Magoos,
Howard Jones,
Gichy Dan,
Nils Olav,
Black Flag,
Au Pairs,
Black Bananas,
Agent Orange,
Deakin,
Kaleidoscope,
Rotary Connection,
Throbbing Gristle,
Brothers Johnson,
Wasted Youth,
The Real Kids,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.