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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Near to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
JFA,
The New Christs,
Connie Case,
Mr. Review,
B.T. Express,
Jandek,
Dave Gahan,
The Sound,
Yellowson,
Stiv Bators,
Traffic Nightmare,
Frankie Knuckles,
Liliput,
Los Fastidios,
Glenn Branca,
Procol Harum,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Country Teasers,
Harmonia,
Oblivians,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ken Boothe,
Freddie Wadling,
Khruangbin,
Roy Ayers,
Fear,
The Misunderstood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Zapp,
Don Cherry,
Thee Headcoats,
The Victims,
Scrapy,
Index,
World's Most,
Metal Thangz,
Skarface,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ossler,
Niagra,
The American Breed,
Section 25,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kayak,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
PIL,
Severed Heads,
Marvin Gaye,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tomorrow,
Wolf Eyes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Grass Roots,
New Age Steppers,
Loose Ends,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dorothy Ashby,
Average White Band,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.