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 South Africa and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar 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 Bill Wells to the funk 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Peter & Gordon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Grass Roots,
Mark Hollis,
The Real Kids,
Wolf Eyes,
The Raincoats,
MDC,
The Motions,
Ronnie Foster,
Peter and Kerry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Severed Heads,
Monks,
Ornette Coleman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fuzztones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zapp,
The Last Poets,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fortunes,
Soul II Soul,
Alphaville,
Tropical Tobacco,
Laurel Aitken,
DJ Sneak,
Suburban Knight,
The Remains,
Alison Limerick,
Roy Ayers,
Sugar Minott,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Trumans Water,
Malaria!,
Cymande,
Chris & Cosey,
Banda Bassotti,
Lindisfarne,
the Association,
Bobby Sherman,
kango's stein massive,
Minor Threat,
The Dead C,
Henry Cow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
James White and The Blacks,
Colin Newman,
the Sonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nas,
The Music Machine,
H. Thieme,
L. Decosne,
Goldenarms,
Country Teasers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lungfish,
Terry Callier,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.