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 Guatemala and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Television to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Danielle Patucci,
Ten City,
Monks,
Pantaleimon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sam Rivers,
Graham Central Station,
Silicon Teens,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Hill,
New York Dolls,
Clear Light,
Sandy B,
The Black Dice,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
Barrington Levy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Unwound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Carl Craig,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eden Ahbez,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Sherman,
Eli Mardock,
Swell Maps,
The Searchers,
Yaz,
The Count Five,
Banda Bassotti,
John Cale,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pussy Galore,
Lee Hazlewood,
10cc,
Lakeside,
ABC,
Minny Pops,
Grey Daturas,
Roxette,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Erykah Badu,
Steve Hackett,
The Saints,
Reagan Youth,
Camouflage,
James White and The Blacks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tommy Roe,
La Düsseldorf,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mars,
Sarah Menescal,
Siglo XX,
The Shadows of Knight,
Country Teasers,
One Last Wish,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.