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 Cuba and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Holger Czukay 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Hoover,
Eden Ahbez,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Human League,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Groovy Waters,
Heaven 17,
Yusef Lateef,
Scrapy,
The Evens,
Smog,
Morten Harket,
John Coltrane,
The Durutti Column,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Iggy Pop,
Black Pus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sugar Minott,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Essential Logic,
Q and Not U,
The Dead C,
EPMD,
Minor Threat,
UT,
Pussy Galore,
FM Einheit,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Arcadia,
Eddi Front,
The Dirtbombs,
Blossom Toes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arab on Radar,
LL Cool J,
Andrew Hill,
Lakeside,
Y Pants,
Freddie Wadling,
Cymande,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Agent Orange,
Idris Muhammad,
Davy DMX,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Soft Cell,
Rapeman,
Thee Headcoats,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tomorrow,
John Holt,
Black Bananas,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mark Hollis,
Mo-Dettes,
Schoolly D,
Joyce Sims,
Guru Guru,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.