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 Ukraine and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Spandau Ballet to the rap 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music 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 a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
K-Klass,
The Saints,
The Red Krayola,
Danielle Patucci,
The Knickerbockers,
Altered Images,
Pierre Henry,
EPMD,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Magazine,
Sparks,
The Last Poets,
Cluster,
Smog,
Peter and Kerry,
The Invisible,
This Heat,
Todd Terry,
Arab on Radar,
Hashim,
Theoretical Girls,
Mo-Dettes,
Nas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brothers Johnson,
Minor Threat,
Jeff Lynne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Second Layer,
Cymande,
The Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Gun Club,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Pop Group,
Ronnie Foster,
Carl Craig,
FM Einheit,
Franke,
Yellowson,
Roxette,
Quantec,
Bill Near,
Khruangbin,
Das Ding,
Sarah Menescal,
Scott Walker,
Loose Ends,
Lyres,
Al Stewart,
Porter Ricks,
John Holt,
Chrome,
Mandrill,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Byron Stingily,
Pagans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.