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 Croatia and from Philadelphia.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the grunge 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Matthew Bourne,
Shuggie Otis,
Howard Jones,
Simply Red,
X-102,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Youth Brigade,
Desert Stars,
The Fortunes,
Surgeon,
AZ,
Au Pairs,
Robert Hood,
Lou Christie,
Oblivians,
Can,
Excepter,
Bobby Womack,
Archie Shepp,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dual Sessions,
The Monks,
Danielle Patucci,
Accadde A,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Infiniti,
Model 500,
The Birthday Party,
Grandmaster Flash,
Judy Mowatt,
Brick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amon Düül,
Adolescents,
The Moody Blues,
The Tremeloes,
Banda Bassotti,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mantronix,
Dead Boys,
The Martian,
Babytalk,
Jandek,
The Durutti Column,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Bar-Kays,
The Slackers,
Country Teasers,
Icehouse,
Dawn Penn,
Harry Pussy,
Scan 7,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DJ Sneak,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bob Dylan,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aloha Tigers,
Bang On A Can,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.