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 Mozambique and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Eurythmics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
JFA,
Faust,
Liliput,
Bobby Sherman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arthur Verocai,
Althea and Donna,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Raincoats,
The Doobie Brothers,
Faraquet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barrington Levy,
Dark Day,
Lindisfarne,
Nirvana,
Magazine,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Unwound,
LL Cool J,
The Moody Blues,
Livin' Joy,
Freddie Wadling,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Trumans Water,
The Index,
Pulsallama,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Bananas,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Soft Cell,
Unrelated Segments,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blossom Toes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Donny Hathaway,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Sonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Adolescents,
Young Marble Giants,
Ronnie Foster,
Rosa Yemen,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dorothy Ashby,
Grauzone,
Black Flag,
Amon Düül,
Tubeway Army,
Alison Limerick,
Desert Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.