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 Ukraine and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Moby Grape to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Scion,
The Last Poets,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Tremeloes,
X-101,
Livin' Joy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Qualms,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lightning Bolt,
The Pretty Things,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dual Sessions,
Alice Coltrane,
Ituana,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minor Threat,
Matthew Bourne,
The Zeros,
Dead Boys,
Steve Hackett,
The Barracudas,
Whodini,
Pole,
48th St. Collective,
Ponytail,
The Dirtbombs,
These Immortal Souls,
Wasted Youth,
The Gap Band,
Davy DMX,
Marc Almond,
Agitation Free,
Roger Hodgson,
the Slits,
Slave,
Malaria!,
Technova,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Foxx,
Ronnie Foster,
Panda Bear,
Shuggie Otis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Average White Band,
Bad Manners,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yaz,
Arab on Radar,
Basic Channel,
Chris Corsano,
The Beau Brummels,
Arthur Verocai,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gun Club,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.