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 Suriname and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Animal Collective,
Bang On A Can,
Sarah Menescal,
Grandmaster Flash,
Peter and Kerry,
Gong,
The Invisible,
The Grass Roots,
Hoover,
The Dead C,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Tremeloes,
U.S. Maple,
A Certain Ratio,
The Stooges,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Association,
The Neon Judgement,
Piero Umiliani,
Cecil Taylor,
Basic Channel,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Leonard Cohen,
Sister Nancy,
Royal Trux,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Names,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dave Clark Five,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-101,
Infiniti,
Amazonics,
X-102,
Khruangbin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Fall,
Nik Kershaw,
Kenny Larkin,
David Axelrod,
Theoretical Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Electric Prunes,
Rufus Thomas,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pantytec,
Joyce Sims,
Glambeats Corp.,
Max Romeo,
Trumans Water,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Skatalites,
Clear Light,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Darondo,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.