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 Germany and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer 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 Soulsonic Force to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stereo Dub,
Deepchord,
Barbara Tucker,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Peter & Gordon,
Negative Approach,
the Slits,
Procol Harum,
The Dead C,
The Count Five,
Robert Wyatt,
Franke,
Al Stewart,
Sound Behaviour,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare,
Moss Icon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bush Tetras,
Von Mondo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gang Starr,
Wire,
Soft Machine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aloha Tigers,
The Knickerbockers,
The Mojo Men,
Ice-T,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Niagra,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cecil Taylor,
Crooked Eye,
Joe Smooth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Das Ding,
Johnny Clarke,
the Association,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Spoonie Gee,
Kas Product,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Average White Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Alton Ellis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Offenders,
Silicon Teens,
Reuben Wilson,
Jawbox,
Althea and Donna,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.