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 Finland and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
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 oboe 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 LL Cool J to the electroclash 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Foxx,
Rakim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Faust,
Ossler,
Thee Headcoats,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Saints,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Modern Lovers,
the Bar-Kays,
Glambeats Corp.,
David Bowie,
Big Daddy Kane,
Janne Schatter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Television,
Vladislav Delay,
Electric Prunes,
Joey Negro,
John Cale,
The American Breed,
B.T. Express,
Joe Finger,
Kas Product,
Cameo,
Derrick May,
Aaron Thompson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mars,
Chrome,
Kerri Chandler,
Don Cherry,
Black Pus,
Yazoo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Boz Scaggs,
Basic Channel,
T.S.O.L.,
Skaos,
Dual Sessions,
John Coltrane,
Dennis Brown,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Birthday Party,
Organ,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Oblivians,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sound Behaviour,
H. Thieme,
Gang of Four,
Blake Baxter,
Quantec,
The Electric Prunes,
Joe Smooth,
The Invisible,
Mandrill,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Loose Ends,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.