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 Fiji and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar 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 Jimmy McGriff to the punk 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minny Pops,
Blake Baxter,
Das Ding,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Adolescents,
DJ Sneak,
Porter Ricks,
Tubeway Army,
Jeff Lynne,
The Seeds,
Mandrill,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yusef Lateef,
Anthony Braxton,
Excepter,
Quadrant,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Subhumans,
The Leaves,
Byron Stingily,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Electric Prunes,
Bad Manners,
Camberwell Now,
Deepchord,
Eddi Front,
Ponytail,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roxy Music,
Yaz,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jerry's Kids,
Todd Rundgren,
The Selecter,
B.T. Express,
Derrick May,
Althea and Donna,
Mark Hollis,
Section 25,
Soulsonic Force,
The Blues Magoos,
Bill Near,
Vladislav Delay,
Fatback Band,
Ultravox,
Pagans,
Arab on Radar,
Fluxion,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Swans,
Fear,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.