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 Libya and from Lyon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bob Dylan to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Soft Cell,
The Grass Roots,
Fluxion,
Rekid,
Amon Düül,
Harpers Bizarre,
Spandau Ballet,
The Blues Magoos,
Kerri Chandler,
Maleditus Sound,
Peter & Gordon,
Con Funk Shun,
Guru Guru,
The Motions,
Brick,
Maurizio,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
OOIOO,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dirtbombs,
Jawbox,
June of 44,
The Associates,
The Gladiators,
Tubeway Army,
Franke,
Chrome,
Andrew Hill,
PIL,
John Coltrane,
The Remains,
Y Pants,
the Swans,
Max Romeo,
Model 500,
Pagans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ten City,
Byron Stingily,
Absolute Body Control,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eurythmics,
Talk Talk,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gap Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Sonics,
Alphaville,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Lydon,
Carl Craig,
Funkadelic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Boogie Down Productions,
Section 25,
Reagan Youth,
DNA,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.