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 Mauritania and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the rap 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Althea and Donna,
Warsaw,
Procol Harum,
Black Moon,
T.S.O.L.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Lydon,
X-102,
Tomorrow,
Derrick May,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Germs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fortunes,
Moebius,
Jandek,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crime,
the Bar-Kays,
Wings,
The Alarm Clocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flipper,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Slick Rick,
Newcleus,
Scion,
Reuben Wilson,
the Human League,
The Misunderstood,
Darondo,
Average White Band,
Rakim,
Derrick Morgan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Blues Magoos,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Amazonics,
Zero Boys,
EPMD,
Animal Collective,
Eddi Front,
Wolf Eyes,
Easy Going,
The United States of America,
The Vogues,
Funky Four + One,
The Saints,
Harmonia,
Thee Headcoats,
Oblivians,
Eli Mardock,
Sarah Menescal,
The Raincoats,
The Beau Brummels,
L. Decosne,
These Immortal Souls,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.