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 Afghanistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare 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 The Fugs to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Mr. Review,
Loose Ends,
Marmalade,
Black Sheep,
Quando Quango,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kayak,
Mars,
Thompson Twins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Steve Hackett,
Man Parrish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eden Ahbez,
Nas,
Reagan Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brass Construction,
David Bowie,
Radiohead,
Jacques Brel,
Donald Byrd,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Real Kids,
Roger Hodgson,
David McCallum,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Byrd,
Saccharine Trust,
Surgeon,
Todd Terry,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Junior Murvin,
Oblivians,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Altered Images,
Absolute Body Control,
Brick,
Black Moon,
Laurel Aitken,
Cal Tjader,
Cheater Slicks,
Josef K,
Sister Nancy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cecil Taylor,
D'Angelo,
Oneida,
Donny Hathaway,
the Human League,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amon Düül,
The Fortunes,
Leonard Cohen,
Aloha Tigers,
ABBA,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.