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 Cyprus and from New York.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 New York Dolls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Con Funk Shun,
Hashim,
The Divine Comedy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Erykah Badu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nils Olav,
Nico,
Albert Ayler,
Angry Samoans,
June Days,
Kurtis Blow,
Colin Newman,
Crooked Eye,
Oneida,
Half Japanese,
Motorama,
China Crisis,
The Music Machine,
Bush Tetras,
The Monochrome Set,
Popol Vuh,
Section 25,
Dark Day,
Roxy Music,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Harmonia,
the Germs,
Blake Baxter,
Tim Buckley,
Flamin' Groovies,
Negative Approach,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Q and Not U,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Normal,
Bronski Beat,
Unrelated Segments,
Intrusion,
The Monks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The New Christs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Cowsills,
Bob Dylan,
Junior Murvin,
Stiv Bators,
Moebius,
Basic Channel,
Hardrive,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Slackers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fad Gadget,
Fela Kuti,
Bill Near,
Television Personalities,
Sight & Sound,
Ossler,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.