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 Sudan and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet 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 Andrew Hill to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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?
Fad Gadget,
Von Mondo,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Birthday Party,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Trojans,
Jeff Mills,
Man Eating Sloth,
Technova,
The Modern Lovers,
Lower 48,
Radiohead,
Motorama,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Animal Collective,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Andrew Hill,
Peter & Gordon,
The Dead C,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reagan Youth,
the Human League,
Matthew Halsall,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Saints,
Simply Red,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eden Ahbez,
Amon Düül,
Sparks,
Dead Boys,
Deadbeat,
Alphaville,
the Association,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultra Naté,
Kayak,
Marmalade,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gories,
E-Dancer,
the Bar-Kays,
Dawn Penn,
The Slits,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Black Dice,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Litter,
Jacob Miller,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alice Coltrane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Delta 5,
Ornette Coleman,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Doobie Brothers,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.