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 Dominica and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro 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 Crooked Eye to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Kerri Chandler,
CMW,
Aloha Tigers,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Moody Blues,
Sugar Minott,
Fat Boys,
10cc,
Agent Orange,
KRS-One,
Pagans,
June of 44,
Peter and Kerry,
Underground Resistance,
John Coltrane,
Joyce Sims,
Ultra Naté,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Monks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Simply Red,
The Black Dice,
The Martian,
Pantytec,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Loose Ends,
D'Angelo,
Moby Grape,
Basic Channel,
These Immortal Souls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Happenings,
Eden Ahbez,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Blues Magoos,
Laurel Aitken,
Bob Dylan,
Suicide,
Blossom Toes,
Judy Mowatt,
Eve St. Jones,
Andrew Hill,
Piero Umiliani,
Jawbox,
a-ha,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Panda Bear,
Niagra,
Junior Murvin,
Eli Mardock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jeff Mills,
Boz Scaggs,
Public Enemy,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.