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 Samoa and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 10cc to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
The Fuzztones,
Jacob Miller,
Tom Boy,
Amazonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lindisfarne,
Sparks,
Ken Boothe,
Cecil Taylor,
Man Parrish,
Khruangbin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Red Krayola,
Inner City,
Prince Buster,
The Victims,
Slave,
Rapeman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Sheep,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Chrome,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blake Baxter,
Average White Band,
B.T. Express,
Dawn Penn,
Barry Ungar,
New Age Steppers,
Bill Wells,
Alice Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Matthew Halsall,
Sandy B,
The Black Dice,
Sonic Youth,
Rod Modell,
Fatback Band,
Adolescents,
Bizarre Inc.,
Television Personalities,
Scientists,
The Litter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Erasure,
Ice-T,
The Blackbyrds,
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Sneak,
The Neon Judgement,
MDC,
Unwound,
Lou Christie,
Minnie Riperton,
Leonard Cohen,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.