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 New Zealand and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Mad Mike to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Saints,
Excepter,
Qualms,
Tim Buckley,
Gong,
Sonic Youth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jesper Dahlback,
48th St. Collective,
The Fortunes,
Maurizio,
Outsiders,
The Cowsills,
Gang Green,
The Tremeloes,
Ice-T,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Malaria!,
Harry Pussy,
Scientists,
Graham Central Station,
The American Breed,
Deakin,
Eric Copeland,
Yusef Lateef,
The Slackers,
Fluxion,
Rufus Thomas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kenny Larkin,
Tropical Tobacco,
A Flock of Seagulls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
China Crisis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sparks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Searchers,
Spandau Ballet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Real Kids,
Symarip,
The Trojans,
Ronnie Foster,
H. Thieme,
Procol Harum,
Das Ding,
Connie Case,
Suicide,
Shoche,
Sight & Sound,
Wally Richardson,
Babytalk,
The Mummies,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Count Five,
Fear,
Roxette,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.