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 Tuvalu and from Philadelphia.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Supertramp to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scratch Acid,
Kayak,
Yusef Lateef,
Maurizio,
Wire,
Derrick Morgan,
Pussy Galore,
Jeff Mills,
U.S. Maple,
JFA,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Beau Brummels,
Stiv Bators,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fortunes,
Matthew Halsall,
Arab on Radar,
Joy Division,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Graham Central Station,
Echospace,
June Days,
Das Ding,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boz Scaggs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
CMW,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cheater Slicks,
The Selecter,
Masters at Work,
The Trojans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Velvet Underground,
R.M.O.,
Kenny Larkin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Reagan Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare,
Interpol,
The Gories,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Knickerbockers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Ronnie Foster,
Sarah Menescal,
AZ,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rites of Spring,
A Certain Ratio,
Tommy Roe,
Prince Buster,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.