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 Cambodia and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 chamberlin 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 Agent Orange to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
Hot Snakes,
Mr. Review,
LL Cool J,
DJ Sneak,
Heaven 17,
Absolute Body Control,
Eric Copeland,
the Sonics,
Jacob Miller,
Mars,
Monolake,
Radio Birdman,
The Invisible,
Moebius,
Organ,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Smog,
Lightning Bolt,
Ornette Coleman,
the Slits,
Harpers Bizarre,
Saccharine Trust,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Symarip,
Nas,
Masters at Work,
Ronan,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ken Boothe,
Vainqueur,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed,
Jeff Mills,
Mantronix,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rotary Connection,
Stockholm Monsters,
EPMD,
Aural Exciters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sonic Youth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T.S.O.L.,
The Blues Magoos,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Moon,
Mission of Burma,
Roy Ayers,
Nirvana,
Leonard Cohen,
Newcleus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joyce Sims,
Gastr Del Sol,
KRS-One,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.