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 Tonga and from Spokane.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jeru the Damaja to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Boredoms,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Toasters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kurtis Blow,
DJ Style,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rotary Connection,
Lungfish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Television Personalities,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crispy Ambulance,
June of 44,
Susan Cadogan,
Liliput,
Anakelly,
The Alarm Clocks,
Howard Jones,
The Victims,
Ultra Naté,
Dead Boys,
Quantec,
The United States of America,
Gichy Dan,
Cal Tjader,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Unwound,
Donald Byrd,
Sällskapet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Agitation Free,
Wings,
Pulsallama,
8 Eyed Spy,
Derrick Morgan,
The Walker Brothers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gong,
Ronnie Foster,
Roy Ayers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Deakin,
Subhumans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
UT,
Soul II Soul,
The Real Kids,
Judy Mowatt,
Niagra,
Barry Ungar,
Skarface,
Ten City,
Sun City Girls,
John Coltrane,
A Certain Ratio,
Brick,
Average White Band,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.