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 Bahrain and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 The Beau Brummels to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 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 Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Clear Light,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vainqueur,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arthur Verocai,
Hot Snakes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cal Tjader,
Soulsonic Force,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Trojans,
The Pretty Things,
The J.B.'s,
T.S.O.L.,
Young Marble Giants,
Thee Headcoats,
Silicon Teens,
Junior Murvin,
The Fortunes,
Index,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kerri Chandler,
D'Angelo,
Josef K,
The Associates,
Monolake,
Terry Callier,
MDC,
Youth Brigade,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fad Gadget,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobby Sherman,
Siglo XX,
The Birthday Party,
Niagra,
Quando Quango,
Jacob Miller,
Tommy Roe,
Joe Smooth,
Spoonie Gee,
Morten Harket,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric Copeland,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blossom Toes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mr. Review,
Camouflage,
Roxette,
R.M.O.,
John Cale,
Piero Umiliani,
Bauhaus,
The Seeds,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.