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 South Africa and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 Scott Walker to the dance 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Groovy Waters,
The Grass Roots,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Görl,
The Gories,
Alton Ellis,
Los Fastidios,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare,
Yellowson,
David McCallum,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Move,
Chris Corsano,
Derrick May,
Aaron Thompson,
Suicide,
Glambeats Corp.,
kango's stein massive,
Fatback Band,
Gang Starr,
The Litter,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Au Pairs,
Nik Kershaw,
Dead Boys,
Shoche,
Aswad,
Rotary Connection,
Liliput,
the Slits,
Carl Craig,
Kaleidoscope,
The Alarm Clocks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Idris Muhammad,
Tres Demented,
Ten City,
Massinfluence,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Fluxion,
The Fall,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Bananas,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Babytalk,
OOIOO,
Porter Ricks,
EPMD,
Iggy Pop,
Lalann,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Motorama,
Rapeman,
The Detroit Cobras,
A Certain Ratio,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.