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 Botswana and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Max Romeo to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Peter & Gordon,
Jerry's Kids,
Rekid,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stiv Bators,
Kerri Chandler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Arcadia,
Bobby Byrd,
Slave,
Nation of Ulysses,
Absolute Body Control,
Tim Buckley,
Kurtis Blow,
Index,
Popol Vuh,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bob Dylan,
DJ Sneak,
Gang Gang Dance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Normal,
Sandy B,
The Slits,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Barbara Tucker,
June Days,
The Sonics,
Jimmy McGriff,
DNA,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alice Coltrane,
Minor Threat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mandrill,
Second Layer,
Dorothy Ashby,
Albert Ayler,
Gerry Rafferty,
David Axelrod,
The Fuzztones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pet Shop Boys,
K-Klass,
Wolf Eyes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eddi Front,
Ossler,
Crispy Ambulance,
Icehouse,
Minny Pops,
The Mojo Men,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Remains,
E-Dancer,
Silicon Teens,
Babytalk,
Bill Near,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.