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 Andorra and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Piero Umiliani to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
The Cure,
Los Fastidios,
Freddie Wadling,
Pere Ubu,
Jimmy McGriff,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Techniques,
Flamin' Groovies,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Con Funk Shun,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Letta Mbulu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Animal Collective,
Sugar Minott,
The Standells,
June Days,
Camouflage,
Robert Wyatt,
Terrestrial Tones,
Barbara Tucker,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
In Retrospect,
Monks,
Rod Modell,
Thompson Twins,
Subhumans,
Jawbox,
Blossom Toes,
Cameo,
Eve St. Jones,
David Bowie,
Pole,
Lebanon Hanover,
EPMD,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Sonics,
Brick,
Bad Manners,
New York Dolls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fortunes,
Slave,
Marine Girls,
Pantytec,
Matthew Bourne,
Eric Copeland,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Organ,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Green,
The Black Dice,
Kas Product,
The Doors,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tim Buckley,
Derrick May,
Zero Boys,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.