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 Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer 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 Bobby Sherman to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
U.S. Maple,
June Days,
Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick May,
Toni Rubio,
Connie Case,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yusef Lateef,
The Smoke,
The Knickerbockers,
The Motions,
Laurel Aitken,
Bill Near,
Agent Orange,
Surgeon,
Yaz,
The Selecter,
Pole,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Minny Pops,
Audionom,
Gang Green,
Bobby Sherman,
Rotary Connection,
Roger Hodgson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cybotron,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hardrive,
Pantaleimon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Half Japanese,
Tommy Roe,
Henry Cow,
Flipper,
Von Mondo,
John Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Gong,
Skarface,
Marine Girls,
Ronan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
the Swans,
Sugar Minott,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bob Dylan,
Grauzone,
Terrestrial Tones,
World's Most,
Amazonics,
Main Source,
Monolake,
Eric B and Rakim,
Country Teasers,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.