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 Brunei and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Monks 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Roy Ayers,
Sarah Menescal,
The Offenders,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Suicide,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roxette,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Echospace,
The Birthday Party,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ultra Naté,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter and Kerry,
Blancmange,
Ken Boothe,
Todd Rundgren,
Maurizio,
Panda Bear,
Minor Threat,
Parry Music,
Lalann,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ten City,
Kerri Chandler,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Move,
Scan 7,
Bang On A Can,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Byrd,
Negative Approach,
Boogie Down Productions,
R.M.O.,
Zero Boys,
Joe Finger,
Tom Boy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brand Nubian,
Ponytail,
the Association,
B.T. Express,
Amon Düül II,
the Bar-Kays,
The Pretty Things,
Easy Going,
Shuggie Otis,
These Immortal Souls,
Youth Brigade,
Blossom Toes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fela Kuti,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Starr,
Roger Hodgson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Coltrane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Supertramp,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.