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 Colombia and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The United States of America to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Remains,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vainqueur,
Harry Pussy,
The Doors,
Quantec,
Duran Duran,
Bizarre Inc.,
Letta Mbulu,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Busters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angry Samoans,
The Sonics,
Pharoah Sanders,
Hot Snakes,
Kayak,
Outsiders,
The Divine Comedy,
Sister Nancy,
the Association,
In Retrospect,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Neon Judgement,
Soulsonic Force,
Roger Hodgson,
Jerry's Kids,
John Coltrane,
Man Parrish,
June of 44,
Sex Pistols,
Warren Ellis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roxette,
Eric Copeland,
Alison Limerick,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Das Ding,
Guru Guru,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fad Gadget,
Lindisfarne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobby Womack,
Oneida,
Rod Modell,
Minor Threat,
Josef K,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sound Behaviour,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Essential Logic,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cheater Slicks,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.