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 Algeria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Intrusion to the grime 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Jacques Brel,
Khruangbin,
Scientists,
Lyres,
Boredoms,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Association,
Babytalk,
June Days,
Deepchord,
Dorothy Ashby,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Slits,
The Last Poets,
Sparks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Slick Rick,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eve St. Jones,
Electric Prunes,
Hoover,
Howard Jones,
The Kinks,
Country Teasers,
Accadde A,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cowsills,
Slave,
Royal Trux,
Silicon Teens,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Reuben Wilson,
OOIOO,
The Motions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Black Dice,
Black Pus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pylon,
Iggy Pop,
The Cramps,
the Fania All-Stars,
Little Man,
Wolf Eyes,
Siglo XX,
Joy Division,
Fatback Band,
Gang Starr,
Lungfish,
Index,
UT,
Man Parrish,
Mark Hollis,
FM Einheit,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.