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 Mali and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 Barry Ungar to the jazz 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Litter,
Urselle,
The Toasters,
Fatback Band,
Funky Four + One,
Jandek,
The Techniques,
The Sonics,
Nils Olav,
Country Teasers,
Duran Duran,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Human League,
Camouflage,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jawbox,
The Smiths,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Johnny Clarke,
Ituana,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pantaleimon,
Technova,
James White and The Blacks,
Bluetip,
Charles Mingus,
The Cramps,
Fela Kuti,
The Black Dice,
The Shadows of Knight,
Todd Rundgren,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Niagra,
Panda Bear,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scratch Acid,
Lyres,
Neu!,
The Dirtbombs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T.S.O.L.,
The Victims,
Danielle Patucci,
The Residents,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Deakin,
Soft Cell,
New Order,
The Real Kids,
John Cale,
Crash Course in Science,
Skriet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pantytec,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.