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 Finland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crime to the funk 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare,
Jacques Brel,
Zapp,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fall,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roy Ayers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pantytec,
Scott Walker,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Newcleus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
B.T. Express,
Livin' Joy,
Judy Mowatt,
the Bar-Kays,
The New Christs,
Boredoms,
Alphaville,
The Raincoats,
Jeff Lynne,
Funky Four + One,
H. Thieme,
Gregory Isaacs,
Darondo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joyce Sims,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Zero Boys,
Oblivians,
Deepchord,
Ten City,
Absolute Body Control,
Siglo XX,
Audionom,
Aswad,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cameo,
Kerri Chandler,
Harry Pussy,
Ossler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Pus,
Fat Boys,
David Axelrod,
Carl Craig,
Black Bananas,
Ronan,
Sun Ra,
Negative Approach,
Severed Heads,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Young Marble Giants,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Sonics,
The J.B.'s,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.