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 Kosovo and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Brass Construction to the techno 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Bluetip,
Aural Exciters,
The Searchers,
The Neon Judgement,
Country Teasers,
Smog,
Moby Grape,
Scott Walker,
The Mojo Men,
The Litter,
Franke,
Faust,
The Music Machine,
Das Ding,
Moebius,
The Black Dice,
Pussy Galore,
Nas,
China Crisis,
Soulsonic Force,
Gichy Dan,
Wally Richardson,
Kaleidoscope,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dawn Penn,
Ronnie Foster,
The Knickerbockers,
Warsaw,
Quando Quango,
Sällskapet,
Swans,
Derrick Morgan,
Fear,
Chrome,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Hutcherson,
X-102,
Average White Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sun City Girls,
Mad Mike,
Suburban Knight,
Tomorrow,
Iggy Pop,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Toasters,
T.S.O.L.,
10cc,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mandrill,
The Real Kids,
Cymande,
Hasil Adkins,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wasted Youth,
Au Pairs,
Basic Channel,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Walker Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Interpol,
Pylon,
E-Dancer,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.