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 Honduras and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kayak 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeff Lynne,
Quando Quango,
Deakin,
Brick,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gabor Szabo,
Gichy Dan,
David McCallum,
Yazoo,
Quadrant,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Matthew Halsall,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soft Machine,
the Bar-Kays,
Vainqueur,
Arthur Verocai,
Junior Murvin,
Bill Wells,
The Barracudas,
The Dirtbombs,
Kurtis Blow,
Echospace,
The Motions,
Slick Rick,
Delon & Dalcan,
Adolescents,
Aloha Tigers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ossler,
Inner City,
E-Dancer,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Tremeloes,
The J.B.'s,
The Fuzztones,
Bootsy Collins,
Country Teasers,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fad Gadget,
The Smiths,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Moon,
Altered Images,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
H. Thieme,
Rekid,
Pierre Henry,
The Fire Engines,
Procol Harum,
Faraquet,
Lucky Dragons,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crispy Ambulance,
Barclay James Harvest,
Silicon Teens,
Hasil Adkins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.