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 Liechtenstein and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 Roger Hodgson to the grime 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Don Cherry,
Morten Harket,
Lungfish,
Rapeman,
Brick,
Dawn Penn,
June of 44,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Moon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Lydon,
Pierre Henry,
Barbara Tucker,
Rosa Yemen,
New Order,
Boz Scaggs,
Aural Exciters,
The United States of America,
Gregory Isaacs,
Country Teasers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
X-102,
Y Pants,
The Gories,
A Certain Ratio,
The Barracudas,
The Smiths,
Television,
Kenny Larkin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Circle Jerks,
Crime,
The Real Kids,
cv313,
Joey Negro,
Erasure,
One Last Wish,
Bluetip,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Offenders,
The Cure,
Stetsasonic,
The Cowsills,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Dead C,
Kayak,
Eric Copeland,
Ornette Coleman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Birthday Party,
Johnny Osbourne,
Inner City,
Ten City,
K-Klass,
Pantytec,
The Blues Magoos,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.