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 St Lucia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord 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 The Doobie Brothers 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Roxy Music,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The New Christs,
The Kinks,
The Motions,
Matthew Halsall,
Royal Trux,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Evens,
Rotary Connection,
Wally Richardson,
June of 44,
Terry Callier,
Pierre Henry,
Dawn Penn,
Thompson Twins,
X-101,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sparks,
The Music Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lower 48,
Con Funk Shun,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Parry Music,
Bush Tetras,
The Index,
the Association,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roy Ayers,
Minor Threat,
Oblivians,
The Smoke,
Stereo Dub,
Jeru the Damaja,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bill Wells,
Ludus,
Joe Finger,
Mars,
Suburban Knight,
Buzzcocks,
Gang of Four,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pole,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kayak,
The Fall,
Negative Approach,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Trumans Water,
K-Klass,
The American Breed,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fat Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Subhumans,
Johnny Clarke,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.