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 Mauritania and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eric B and Rakim to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Don Cherry,
Motorama,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric Copeland,
The Fall,
Judy Mowatt,
Minutemen,
Shuggie Otis,
Tommy Roe,
Das Ding,
Camouflage,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
T.S.O.L.,
Lou Christie,
Minor Threat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stiv Bators,
Bill Wells,
The Beau Brummels,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Charles Mingus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radio Birdman,
Heaven 17,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Supertramp,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry's Kids,
Jacob Miller,
the Germs,
Sarah Menescal,
Bill Near,
Inner City,
Boredoms,
Khruangbin,
The Trojans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wire,
Hashim,
FM Einheit,
The Divine Comedy,
The Black Dice,
Sonny Sharrock,
OOIOO,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bronski Beat,
Basic Channel,
New York Dolls,
Eve St. Jones,
Skaos,
KRS-One,
the Swans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moss Icon,
Quantec,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Green,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.