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 Kingdom and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
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 chamberlin 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the punk 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
L. Decosne,
Al Stewart,
Eric B and Rakim,
Saccharine Trust,
Robert Wyatt,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Slackers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crime,
The Stooges,
Faust,
The Skatalites,
Public Enemy,
Letta Mbulu,
Bill Wells,
The Sonics,
The Dead C,
Quantec,
Marvin Gaye,
DJ Sneak,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Derrick Morgan,
Avey Tare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobby Womack,
the Human League,
The Pop Group,
The Shadows of Knight,
Althea and Donna,
Brand Nubian,
Bootsy Collins,
Matthew Halsall,
Nas,
Chris & Cosey,
Yaz,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gang Starr,
The United States of America,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Doobie Brothers,
Warsaw,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bad Manners,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joy Division,
Skriet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ludus,
Sun City Girls,
The Last Poets,
Dennis Brown,
Wasted Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
Crooked Eye,
Darondo,
Khruangbin,
Liliput,
The Divine Comedy,
Boredoms,
Scientists,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.