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 Syria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the rap 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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin 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 Cramps,
Panda Bear,
Model 500,
John Cale,
Crooked Eye,
X-101,
The Moody Blues,
The Gap Band,
Suicide,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Donny Hathaway,
Howard Jones,
Interpol,
Deadbeat,
Derrick Morgan,
Gong,
The Dave Clark Five,
Funky Four + One,
Faraquet,
The Move,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aural Exciters,
Banda Bassotti,
ABC,
David Bowie,
The Seeds,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Busters,
Pagans,
Das Ding,
Pere Ubu,
Sugar Minott,
Marc Almond,
Bush Tetras,
Matthew Bourne,
Franke,
New York Dolls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bad Manners,
Sexual Harrassment,
10cc,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Pus,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Monks,
The Last Poets,
Max Romeo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Section 25,
The Gladiators,
Wally Richardson,
Fela Kuti,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Flash Fearless,
Cameo,
Second Layer,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Minny Pops,
Ludus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Morten Harket,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.