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 Haiti 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 Ultra Naté to the punk 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Starr,
Bill Wells,
Morten Harket,
Al Stewart,
Black Bananas,
Y Pants,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Index,
Procol Harum,
kango's stein massive,
The Velvet Underground,
The Cramps,
The Selecter,
Stetsasonic,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Martian,
Alison Limerick,
Dual Sessions,
The Beau Brummels,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Guru Guru,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scott Walker,
The Blues Magoos,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Spandau Ballet,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Happenings,
Fugazi,
Faraquet,
The Dirtbombs,
R.M.O.,
Can,
Jandek,
The Smiths,
David Bowie,
Kaleidoscope,
Pharoah Sanders,
Warsaw,
Das Ding,
John Foxx,
Patti Smith,
The Fire Engines,
The Buckinghams,
the Sonics,
Fear,
Alice Coltrane,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arab on Radar,
Urselle,
Average White Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Neil Young,
Colin Newman,
Lyres,
Public Image Ltd.,
Donald Byrd,
Chris Corsano,
AZ,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.