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 Honduras and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Suicide to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
The Moleskins,
Crash Course in Science,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Main Source,
Barry Ungar,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Accadde A,
Country Joe & The Fish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Trumans Water,
Magma,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Talk Talk,
Pantaleimon,
Tom Boy,
Slick Rick,
Simply Red,
Sugar Minott,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Flag,
Khruangbin,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ituana,
Aaron Thompson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Faust,
Bobby Womack,
Lindisfarne,
Laurel Aitken,
Yellowson,
Infiniti,
Joy Division,
Lungfish,
The Monochrome Set,
Saccharine Trust,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pet Shop Boys,
Hashim,
The Durutti Column,
Funkadelic,
Buzzcocks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Skatalites,
John Holt,
Agitation Free,
Ludus,
The Zeros,
Spandau Ballet,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cymande,
Quadrant,
The Doors,
Mo-Dettes,
The Invisible,
T.S.O.L.,
ABC,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Wire,
LL Cool J,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.