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 Marshall Islands and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Anthony Braxton to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Quadrant,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yusef Lateef,
Max Romeo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nas,
the Germs,
Duran Duran,
Hot Snakes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Seeds,
Mandrill,
Eurythmics,
Rekid,
Livin' Joy,
Khruangbin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Suicide,
Desert Stars,
The Gun Club,
Bad Manners,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
CMW,
Terrestrial Tones,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Names,
Yellowson,
Cluster,
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Clarke,
The Martian,
The Invisible,
Unwound,
Lungfish,
Terry Callier,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
June of 44,
The Skatalites,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lou Christie,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dirtbombs,
Depeche Mode,
Erykah Badu,
The Neon Judgement,
Q65,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Second Layer,
Gang Starr,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pantytec,
Technova,
Ice-T,
Kevin Saunderson,
Alice Coltrane,
The Monochrome Set,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.