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 Ivory Coast and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Count Five to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
X-101,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sandy B,
Susan Cadogan,
The Durutti Column,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pussy Galore,
Fela Kuti,
Chris Corsano,
The J.B.'s,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Near,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
DJ Style,
Mo-Dettes,
Youth Brigade,
Slave,
David Axelrod,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Last Poets,
Boz Scaggs,
Spoonie Gee,
David Bowie,
Eli Mardock,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sister Nancy,
The Remains,
Faust,
Bauhaus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare,
The Wake,
Unrelated Segments,
Soft Cell,
Amazonics,
Oneida,
Pantaleimon,
Blancmange,
Albert Ayler,
Pharoah Sanders,
K-Klass,
The Busters,
Blossom Toes,
Magazine,
Faraquet,
Dual Sessions,
Black Flag,
Tomorrow,
Basic Channel,
Von Mondo,
The Cramps,
Gang Green,
Byron Stingily,
Minnie Riperton,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crash Course in Science,
The Saints,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mad Mike,
Stetsasonic,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.