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 South Africa and from Tehran.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Liliput to the grunge 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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Christie,
New York Dolls,
Sam Rivers,
Kaleidoscope,
Marine Girls,
Blossom Toes,
The Last Poets,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mission of Burma,
Outsiders,
Second Layer,
DJ Style,
Delta 5,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Quando Quango,
The Electric Prunes,
Simply Red,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mo-Dettes,
KRS-One,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Invisible,
Stereo Dub,
Average White Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
R.M.O.,
Parry Music,
Ornette Coleman,
Alphaville,
DJ Sneak,
Porter Ricks,
Althea and Donna,
Roxette,
The Trojans,
Oblivians,
Blake Baxter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Isaac Hayes,
The Gories,
Ralphi Rosario,
Unwound,
Eurythmics,
Agitation Free,
Morten Harket,
Dave Gahan,
Letta Mbulu,
La Düsseldorf,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gichy Dan,
Sister Nancy,
Deadbeat,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marc Almond,
Little Man,
Dennis Brown,
Neil Young,
Barry Ungar,
Sonic Youth,
ABC,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.