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 Benin and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
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 chamberlin 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 Searchers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
X-Ray Spex,
Ohio Players,
Model 500,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cowsills,
Dead Boys,
Mr. Review,
Joey Negro,
The Durutti Column,
Piero Umiliani,
The Move,
Pantaleimon,
Quadrant,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Popol Vuh,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Victims,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Trojans,
Unwound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Animal Collective,
The Toasters,
Loose Ends,
Jacques Brel,
Metal Thangz,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Television Personalities,
Drive Like Jehu,
Severed Heads,
Fad Gadget,
CMW,
Anakelly,
Oblivians,
Radio Birdman,
Interpol,
The Remains,
the Association,
Clear Light,
Cluster,
The Residents,
Kenny Larkin,
Yellowson,
Minnie Riperton,
Rufus Thomas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tres Demented,
Radiopuhelimet,
ABC,
Kas Product,
Infiniti,
Rapeman,
FM Einheit,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.