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 San Marino and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Sam Rivers to the punk 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Roger Hodgson,
Talk Talk,
Royal Trux,
H. Thieme,
The Divine Comedy,
Warsaw,
Yellowson,
the Fania All-Stars,
The American Breed,
The Birthday Party,
Radio Birdman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Neil Young,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris Corsano,
Whodini,
Wolf Eyes,
The Blackbyrds,
Lalann,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dead C,
Soulsonic Force,
Sound Behaviour,
Lower 48,
Delon & Dalcan,
Drexciya,
Scan 7,
K-Klass,
MC5,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nation of Ulysses,
Quantec,
Minor Threat,
Trumans Water,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Heaven 17,
Pierre Henry,
Saccharine Trust,
Pulsallama,
F. McDonald,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
These Immortal Souls,
the Germs,
Freddie Wadling,
Can,
Eden Ahbez,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soul II Soul,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Q65,
New Age Steppers,
Silicon Teens,
D'Angelo,
The Sonics,
Scientists,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pagans,
Scrapy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.