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 Luxembourg and from Jakarta.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Real Kids to the crunk 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
James White and The Blacks,
The Mojo Men,
Mad Mike,
B.T. Express,
The Fuzztones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Theoretical Girls,
Flipper,
Kool Moe Dee,
China Crisis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Los Fastidios,
Shoche,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Model 500,
The American Breed,
Eric Copeland,
The Motions,
Khruangbin,
Slave,
Colin Newman,
H. Thieme,
Tommy Roe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Silicon Teens,
Make Up,
Aloha Tigers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Clear Light,
Gabor Szabo,
Groovy Waters,
The Slackers,
Fat Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
Derrick May,
The Zeros,
Steve Hackett,
Moby Grape,
Swell Maps,
Letta Mbulu,
Talk Talk,
Deakin,
Hashim,
Eden Ahbez,
Qualms,
Amon Düül II,
The Gladiators,
Harry Pussy,
Graham Central Station,
Kurtis Blow,
The Red Krayola,
Ronnie Foster,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joy Division,
Blake Baxter,
The Barracudas,
Ultra Naté,
Procol Harum,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.