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 Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 John Foxx to the jazz 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
the Soft Cell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Foxx,
Lalo Schifrin,
Suburban Knight,
Fat Boys,
Junior Murvin,
Ohio Players,
Tom Boy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
ABBA,
The Five Americans,
Josef K,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Albert Ayler,
Nick Fraelich,
Brothers Johnson,
Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
Delta 5,
Severed Heads,
Sun Ra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Moebius,
Supertramp,
ABC,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Glenn Branca,
The Fortunes,
Masters at Work,
The Litter,
T. Rex,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Velvet Underground,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bluetip,
Gang Gang Dance,
Monolake,
Gabor Szabo,
Electric Prunes,
H. Thieme,
Robert Wyatt,
Aaron Thompson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brick,
Aswad,
Skaos,
Judy Mowatt,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Monochrome Set,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mad Mike,
Youth Brigade,
John Lydon,
Sound Behaviour,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
In Retrospect,
Camouflage,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.