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 Chile and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Khruangbin to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chris Corsano,
CMW,
Blancmange,
Sparks,
ABBA,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aloha Tigers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Davy DMX,
This Heat,
The Mummies,
Interpol,
Khruangbin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Anakelly,
The Dead C,
Dawn Penn,
Hashim,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bush Tetras,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hoover,
The Names,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
PIL,
Mr. Review,
Joe Finger,
Mission of Burma,
Schoolly D,
Tomorrow,
The Slits,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Spoonie Gee,
Gabor Szabo,
Sarah Menescal,
Heaven 17,
L. Decosne,
Harry Pussy,
Fear,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Darondo,
The Beau Brummels,
K-Klass,
Derrick May,
Quantec,
Scion,
The Red Krayola,
The Gladiators,
Index,
Pierre Henry,
The Gap Band,
Au Pairs,
The Alarm Clocks,
R.M.O.,
Pole,
Yaz,
Tom Boy,
Fatback Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.