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 Marshall Islands and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Prince Buster 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Animal Collective,
Popol Vuh,
Zapp,
Joyce Sims,
Don Cherry,
The Remains,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Selecter,
Arthur Verocai,
The Durutti Column,
Amon Düül II,
Nirvana,
Blancmange,
The Fuzztones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Radio Birdman,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roger Hodgson,
Yellowson,
Severed Heads,
Matthew Halsall,
Franke,
The Techniques,
Alphaville,
Hot Snakes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Neil Young,
MDC,
Black Sheep,
Unrelated Segments,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Graham Central Station,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barrington Levy,
Bobby Byrd,
Dawn Penn,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gang Gang Dance,
Oneida,
The Motions,
The Birthday Party,
Goldenarms,
The Monochrome Set,
Tomorrow,
Parry Music,
The Gladiators,
The Divine Comedy,
The Young Rascals,
Con Funk Shun,
Nils Olav,
The Happenings,
E-Dancer,
The Slackers,
Lou Reed,
Kevin Saunderson,
T. Rex,
Accadde A,
Pylon,
Henry Cow,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.