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 Bhutan and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Black Pus to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Maleditus Sound,
Jacob Miller,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minor Threat,
Ronan,
Surgeon,
Y Pants,
Suicide,
The Tremeloes,
Blossom Toes,
Sällskapet,
DJ Style,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Khruangbin,
Deepchord,
David McCallum,
Godley & Creme,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kenny Larkin,
Yazoo,
June of 44,
Quadrant,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Theoretical Girls,
The Searchers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dead Boys,
Thompson Twins,
the Germs,
The Dead C,
Amon Düül II,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joensuu 1685,
D'Angelo,
Funkadelic,
Youth Brigade,
the Slits,
Bill Wells,
DNA,
The Gladiators,
Mr. Review,
Lyres,
Marmalade,
Das Ding,
Minny Pops,
The Dirtbombs,
The Pop Group,
Gang Starr,
Man Parrish,
Clear Light,
Connie Case,
Negative Approach,
Crash Course in Science,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fela Kuti,
Eric B and Rakim,
Circle Jerks,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby 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.