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 Bangladesh and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Cameo to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ludus,
Dawn Penn,
Judy Mowatt,
Joyce Sims,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Doors,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Selecter,
New Age Steppers,
Make Up,
UT,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes,
The Slackers,
Juan Atkins,
Davy DMX,
Grey Daturas,
Steve Hackett,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bob Dylan,
Soft Cell,
Procol Harum,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pierre Henry,
Connie Case,
Carl Craig,
The Happenings,
Crooked Eye,
Roger Hodgson,
Eric Dolphy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fire Engines,
Agent Orange,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Magma,
The Motions,
Joensuu 1685,
Bootsy Collins,
Suicide,
Isaac Hayes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Robert Hood,
La Düsseldorf,
Quantec,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Busters,
The Trojans,
Josef K,
Moebius,
The Litter,
Flipper,
Con Funk Shun,
Circle Jerks,
Sam Rivers,
Excepter,
Warsaw,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.