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 Seychelles and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum 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 Joyce Sims to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
John Cale,
Warren Ellis,
David Bowie,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Moody Blues,
Nik Kershaw,
Soulsonic Force,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Moby Grape,
Gong,
Echospace,
The Slackers,
Gang Green,
The Gladiators,
Kerri Chandler,
Parry Music,
Babytalk,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Traffic Nightmare,
June of 44,
the Slits,
Crispy Ambulance,
Adolescents,
Hashim,
Das Ding,
Carl Craig,
David McCallum,
The New Christs,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Von Mondo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Hardrive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Second Layer,
The Names,
Ice-T,
Patti Smith,
Unrelated Segments,
Ten City,
The Index,
Saccharine Trust,
The Trojans,
Scion,
Minutemen,
The Shadows of Knight,
Talk Talk,
Simply Red,
Chris & Cosey,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fela Kuti,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang of Four,
The Happenings,
Bob Dylan,
Lalo Schifrin,
R.M.O.,
The Walker Brothers,
The Seeds,
Don Cherry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.