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 Uganda and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the disco 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 Flesh Eaters,
Eve St. Jones,
Harmonia,
Talk Talk,
Cecil Taylor,
The Dirtbombs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harry Pussy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Average White Band,
48th St. Collective,
MDC,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gerry Rafferty,
Procol Harum,
Ossler,
Althea and Donna,
Mad Mike,
Bootsy Collins,
Nik Kershaw,
Marc Almond,
Lower 48,
Bauhaus,
the Association,
Bush Tetras,
Brothers Johnson,
Pantaleimon,
Barry Ungar,
Theoretical Girls,
Wings,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Monks,
Dawn Penn,
Joe Smooth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Faraquet,
Aaron Thompson,
Minnie Riperton,
Al Stewart,
The Stooges,
Michelle Simonal,
Matthew Bourne,
Magazine,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Prince Buster,
Amon Düül II,
Scan 7,
Delta 5,
Lou Reed,
Jacques Brel,
Spoonie Gee,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Avey Tare,
Kayak,
Gong,
The Modern Lovers,
Technova,
Gang Starr,
Schoolly D,
Parry Music,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC'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.