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 Kazakhstan and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Yusef Lateef to the dance 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare,
Cymande,
Laurel Aitken,
Index,
Qualms,
The Misunderstood,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Monks,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Pretty Things,
the Swans,
Alphaville,
the Normal,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
48th St. Collective,
Joey Negro,
AZ,
The Vogues,
Khruangbin,
Swell Maps,
Second Layer,
DJ Sneak,
The Moleskins,
Josef K,
Fluxion,
Inner City,
Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
Magma,
Ralphi Rosario,
Vladislav Delay,
Desert Stars,
Stetsasonic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Residents,
Derrick Morgan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bronski Beat,
Animal Collective,
The Index,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Deakin,
Public Enemy,
Faraquet,
DJ Style,
Janne Schatter,
The Litter,
Byron Stingily,
The Dave Clark Five,
Organ,
The Associates,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sugar Minott,
Massinfluence,
The Sonics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.