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 Georgia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Radiohead to the funk 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Pole,
The Gap Band,
X-102,
James White and The Blacks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tim Buckley,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Guru Guru,
The Raincoats,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Motions,
Terry Callier,
Motorama,
Todd Terry,
Mo-Dettes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rakim,
The Names,
Bill Wells,
Black Moon,
Brick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alphaville,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
DNA,
Nas,
Agent Orange,
Colin Newman,
Hoover,
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
Liliput,
Kaleidoscope,
Stetsasonic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pierre Henry,
Jeff Lynne,
Pylon,
Alton Ellis,
Con Funk Shun,
UT,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Panda Bear,
Johnny Clarke,
Amazonics,
D'Angelo,
Matthew Bourne,
Technova,
The Tremeloes,
Avey Tare,
Vainqueur,
Slave,
Masters at Work,
Sam Rivers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joensuu 1685,
The Red Krayola,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.