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 Dominican Republic and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 The Monochrome Set to the disco 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Pretty Things,
Masters at Work,
Rosa Yemen,
the Bar-Kays,
Barclay James Harvest,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Maurizio,
Eden Ahbez,
Whodini,
Yazoo,
Minutemen,
Ornette Coleman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
KRS-One,
Robert Hood,
Talk Talk,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mission of Burma,
The Gap Band,
Mr. Review,
Cal Tjader,
Barry Ungar,
Freddie Wadling,
Index,
Agitation Free,
Lungfish,
The Raincoats,
Anakelly,
Organ,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dennis Brown,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jerry's Kids,
Kaleidoscope,
Swell Maps,
Desert Stars,
The Cure,
Lebanon Hanover,
Faraquet,
Skarface,
Dead Boys,
La Düsseldorf,
Susan Cadogan,
Clear Light,
Nico,
Tim Buckley,
Au Pairs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Judy Mowatt,
Sound Behaviour,
The Kinks,
The Five Americans,
The United States of America,
Funky Four + One,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.