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 Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb 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 Bill Wells to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Jandek,
Todd Rundgren,
Arcadia,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Livin' Joy,
Pussy Galore,
Ronnie Foster,
Popol Vuh,
Patti Smith,
DNA,
Vladislav Delay,
Delon & Dalcan,
Anthony Braxton,
Hoover,
Basic Channel,
Junior Murvin,
Model 500,
Man Parrish,
The Saints,
PIL,
Wasted Youth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Banda Bassotti,
Scratch Acid,
Gong,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aswad,
Stetsasonic,
Spoonie Gee,
The Raincoats,
Organ,
Camouflage,
Pantaleimon,
Ohio Players,
Connie Case,
Massinfluence,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Steve Hackett,
Iggy Pop,
Susan Cadogan,
Qualms,
The Kinks,
Interpol,
Panda Bear,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Janne Schatter,
Dead Boys,
Al Stewart,
Mantronix,
The Blues Magoos,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ossler,
Sight & Sound,
Eric Copeland,
Newcleus,
Toni Rubio,
June Days,
The Toasters,
The Gories,
David McCallum,
The Slackers,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.