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 Philippines and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Bobby Womack to the crunk 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Porter Ricks,
The Standells,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wings,
Ludus,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Associates,
UT,
Derrick May,
Roxy Music,
Black Bananas,
Pulsallama,
Hardrive,
Royal Trux,
Second Layer,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wasted Youth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jeff Lynne,
ABC,
Sex Pistols,
Colin Newman,
Moebius,
Bad Manners,
Marshall Jefferson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Accadde A,
Mary Jane Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Sight & Sound,
Al Stewart,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Angels of Light,
Fluxion,
Mad Mike,
The Golliwogs,
Circle Jerks,
Rapeman,
The Last Poets,
Crispy Ambulance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dual Sessions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Los Fastidios,
Clear Light,
Gang of Four,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sixth Finger,
Ultra Naté,
Kurtis Blow,
Aaron Thompson,
The Pop Group,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
T.S.O.L.,
Lakeside,
Brass Construction,
Eric Dolphy,
Adolescents,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wolf Eyes,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.