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 Lesotho and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Whodini to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
E-Dancer,
Model 500,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Procol Harum,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arcadia,
Wire,
Tommy Roe,
Bill Wells,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fall,
Marvin Gaye,
The Searchers,
The Durutti Column,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vainqueur,
Hoover,
Agent Orange,
Aswad,
Pylon,
Minor Threat,
John Foxx,
Angry Samoans,
The Toasters,
Deakin,
Tim Buckley,
Tom Boy,
Thee Headcoats,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nik Kershaw,
Swell Maps,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boogie Down Productions,
Barrington Levy,
Bad Manners,
Delon & Dalcan,
Toni Rubio,
Unrelated Segments,
Sam Rivers,
Grey Daturas,
Terry Callier,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gichy Dan,
Stetsasonic,
Susan Cadogan,
The Blues Magoos,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Interpol,
Infiniti,
DNA,
The Divine Comedy,
Maleditus Sound,
T.S.O.L.,
Kerri Chandler,
the Germs,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.