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 China and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bremen.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Nik Kershaw to the jazz 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
The Gladiators,
The Alarm Clocks,
Porter Ricks,
Ponytail,
Eurythmics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Germs,
Inner City,
Make Up,
Josef K,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bush Tetras,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Human League,
Barrington Levy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Radiohead,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lungfish,
Boogie Down Productions,
New Order,
Slave,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tres Demented,
Connie Case,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Popol Vuh,
Johnny Clarke,
The Pretty Things,
Pulsallama,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eden Ahbez,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delta 5,
The Divine Comedy,
The Electric Prunes,
Erasure,
The Durutti Column,
Crooked Eye,
Sparks,
Toni Rubio,
Nas,
Lightning Bolt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Metal Thangz,
Con Funk Shun,
Tom Boy,
Man Parrish,
Godley & Creme,
Whodini,
Dorothy Ashby,
Piero Umiliani,
Spandau Ballet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Goldenarms,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.