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 Nicaragua and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 In Retrospect to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
EPMD,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Wally Richardson,
Arcadia,
The Mummies,
Sun City Girls,
Bluetip,
Charles Mingus,
K-Klass,
Little Man,
Drexciya,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Judy Mowatt,
Godley & Creme,
June Days,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang Gang Dance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Matthew Bourne,
Negative Approach,
The Gladiators,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Das Ding,
Suicide,
Skarface,
Harry Pussy,
The Fall,
Lou Reed,
The Young Rascals,
The Victims,
Crash Course in Science,
X-101,
The Residents,
The Cure,
Terrestrial Tones,
Supertramp,
Model 500,
Marine Girls,
Swans,
Magma,
the Swans,
Symarip,
Lungfish,
Maurizio,
The Offenders,
The Names,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Almond,
A Certain Ratio,
Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Don Cherry,
Lyres,
Smog,
Lebanon Hanover,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.