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 Gambia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Donald Fagen 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 Jesper Dahlback to the grime 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Surgeon,
The Mojo Men,
The Angels of Light,
Erasure,
Smog,
Section 25,
The Fall,
Steve Hackett,
DJ Sneak,
Spandau Ballet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Procol Harum,
Y Pants,
Mr. Review,
Bill Wells,
Wally Richardson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Remains,
Swell Maps,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers,
Yusef Lateef,
Scott Walker,
The Move,
Saccharine Trust,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Parry Music,
Lungfish,
The Fugs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
T.S.O.L.,
Unwound,
The Blues Magoos,
Leonard Cohen,
The Zeros,
Aloha Tigers,
Crooked Eye,
Godley & Creme,
JFA,
Pylon,
Rotary Connection,
Sällskapet,
Gang of Four,
Con Funk Shun,
Simply Red,
Shoche,
Skriet,
Jacques Brel,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Colin Newman,
Amazonics,
Japan,
Agent Orange,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Main Source,
Erykah Badu,
Livin' Joy,
Blake Baxter,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.