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 Moldova and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Animal Collective,
Quadrant,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Coltrane,
Wolf Eyes,
Prince Buster,
Surgeon,
The Young Rascals,
Ossler,
Kas Product,
Black Pus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sex Pistols,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sonics,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Scan 7,
Unwound,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wasted Youth,
Babytalk,
The Associates,
Motorama,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fuzztones,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Newcleus,
The Leaves,
The Cowsills,
Y Pants,
Slave,
Alison Limerick,
Dawn Penn,
Carl Craig,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gladiators,
The Evens,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rufus Thomas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blossom Toes,
Clear Light,
Chris Corsano,
Radio Birdman,
Crime,
The Standells,
Saccharine Trust,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
OOIOO,
In Retrospect,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eve St. Jones,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terry Callier,
Yusef Lateef,
the Association,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.