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 Estonia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar 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 Laurel Aitken to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Franke,
H. Thieme,
Pulsallama,
Eurythmics,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fear,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Livin' Joy,
The Five Americans,
Josef K,
Royal Trux,
Gabor Szabo,
Al Stewart,
Infiniti,
New Order,
Second Layer,
Vladislav Delay,
Mary Jane Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Angels of Light,
Radiopuhelimet,
U.S. Maple,
The Fuzztones,
T. Rex,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cymande,
Angry Samoans,
The Cowsills,
Deepchord,
LL Cool J,
Kerri Chandler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lungfish,
Reuben Wilson,
Fatback Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Panda Bear,
Susan Cadogan,
Roy Ayers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Velvet Underground,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fugazi,
Judy Mowatt,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pere Ubu,
Sparks,
Anakelly,
Eli Mardock,
The Blues Magoos,
Spandau Ballet,
Brass Construction,
X-101,
Visage,
Danielle Patucci,
Rufus Thomas,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.