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 United States and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Wally Richardson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Curtis Mayfield,
B.T. Express,
Oblivians,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flipper,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nirvana,
Little Man,
Mary Jane Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soul II Soul,
Michelle Simonal,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rosa Yemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Music Machine,
The New Christs,
The Remains,
Pierre Henry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
KRS-One,
The Divine Comedy,
Eli Mardock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Schoolly D,
Marmalade,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hashim,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Pretty Things,
a-ha,
Shoche,
Blake Baxter,
Crooked Eye,
Ituana,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Grass Roots,
Marcia Griffiths,
David McCallum,
Suicide,
Gastr Del Sol,
Byron Stingily,
Rod Modell,
Darondo,
Rites of Spring,
Unwound,
10cc,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Sheep,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Womack,
Supertramp,
Kaleidoscope,
Isaac Hayes,
Roy Ayers,
Bill Near,
Tom Boy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.