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 Thailand and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Anakelly to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Soulsonic Force,
Lucky Dragons,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Monolake,
Average White Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Barbara Tucker,
Interpol,
OOIOO,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Normal,
Jeff Mills,
Young Marble Giants,
D'Angelo,
Minor Threat,
Connie Case,
Parry Music,
Nik Kershaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Funky Four + One,
Henry Cow,
The Birthday Party,
Fatback Band,
Pierre Henry,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gabor Szabo,
New York Dolls,
Reuben Wilson,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fortunes,
Robert Hood,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Yellowson,
Ronnie Foster,
Underground Resistance,
The Selecter,
Panda Bear,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sällskapet,
Ossler,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bang On A Can,
Echospace,
The Move,
Dual Sessions,
Sugar Minott,
Delon & Dalcan,
Terry Callier,
The Last Poets,
Subhumans,
A Certain Ratio,
Sarah Menescal,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deakin,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultravox,
Con Funk Shun,
Jandek,
Can,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.