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 Oman and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
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 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 Donald Fagen 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 Jacques Brel to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Dead C 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Silicon Teens,
The Smoke,
Davy DMX,
Todd Rundgren,
Ice-T,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Doors,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blake Baxter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yazoo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sun City Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Sex Pistols,
Jeff Mills,
Yusef Lateef,
the Association,
MDC,
Thee Headcoats,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aloha Tigers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Subhumans,
Television Personalities,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kenny Larkin,
Iggy Pop,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Boogie Down Productions,
Moebius,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crime,
Stereo Dub,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arab on Radar,
New York Dolls,
Angry Samoans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oneida,
Kas Product,
Tubeway Army,
Jerry's Kids,
David McCallum,
Absolute Body Control,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hardrive,
Robert Wyatt,
Technova,
Black Bananas,
The Trojans,
Lalann,
Minny Pops,
Bootsy Collins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Siglo XX,
The United States of America,
Isaac Hayes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.