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 Mongolia and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Tropical Tobacco to the crunk 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
World's Most,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bluetip,
Patti Smith,
Ice-T,
Rod Modell,
Judy Mowatt,
a-ha,
The Pretty Things,
Jandek,
Ultimate Spinach,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Visage,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Peter and Kerry,
Lakeside,
The Durutti Column,
Ponytail,
Rotary Connection,
Eddi Front,
Alice Coltrane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bob Dylan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DNA,
Nico,
The Saints,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Toni Rubio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sexual Harrassment,
Reuben Wilson,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacques Brel,
The Gun Club,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
LL Cool J,
Matthew Bourne,
John Cale,
Arab on Radar,
Gang Starr,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roxette,
Avey Tare,
Minutemen,
Neil Young,
Pussy Galore,
Faust,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lindisfarne,
The Techniques,
Lucky Dragons,
Eric B and Rakim,
Underground Resistance,
Audionom,
The Tremeloes,
B.T. Express,
kango's stein massive,
Rapeman,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.