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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet 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 F. McDonald to the rock 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Sparks,
Deadbeat,
The Litter,
Babytalk,
Yusef Lateef,
Animal Collective,
Neu!,
Davy DMX,
The Music Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Joe Finger,
Stiv Bators,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Cure,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Inner City,
Intrusion,
The Durutti Column,
Black Sheep,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Television Personalities,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
ABC,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ponytail,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gichy Dan,
Zapp,
Amazonics,
48th St. Collective,
Gregory Isaacs,
Infiniti,
ABBA,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roxette,
The Fall,
The Dirtbombs,
the Germs,
Sam Rivers,
Aloha Tigers,
The Divine Comedy,
Tres Demented,
The Black Dice,
Bang On A Can,
Con Funk Shun,
Terrestrial Tones,
Malaria!,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Desert Stars,
Connie Case,
Underground Resistance,
Graham Central Station,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Selecter,
Harmonia,
Joy Division,
Duran Duran,
Max Romeo,
JFA,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bill Wells,
Ultimate Spinach,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.