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 Latvia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin 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 Kerrie Biddell to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
The Associates,
the Human League,
Deakin,
Carl Craig,
Josef K,
Outsiders,
Yaz,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moebius,
Swans,
Fat Boys,
Television,
Ultravox,
The Fall,
The Standells,
Soul Sonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Massinfluence,
Con Funk Shun,
Tom Boy,
Connie Case,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Donny Hathaway,
Sugar Minott,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roxy Music,
Supertramp,
Sight & Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Guru Guru,
Althea and Donna,
The Fuzztones,
Joey Negro,
Jawbox,
The Smiths,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ice-T,
Letta Mbulu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gong,
Pole,
Suicide,
Section 25,
Jacob Miller,
Nik Kershaw,
Depeche Mode,
Model 500,
Ohio Players,
David McCallum,
Archie Shepp,
Terry Callier,
Peter and Kerry,
Make Up,
Chrome,
Fugazi,
Brothers Johnson,
Alton Ellis,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.