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 Yemen and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manila.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Blancmange to the rap 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Wings,
Theoretical Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Donald Byrd,
Alice Coltrane,
Rufus Thomas,
U.S. Maple,
Junior Murvin,
Roxette,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Electric Prunes,
a-ha,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fortunes,
Neil Young,
The Angels of Light,
Royal Trux,
DNA,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Anakelly,
The Cowsills,
The Pretty Things,
Khruangbin,
The Music Machine,
Minnie Riperton,
Qualms,
Motorama,
Ultra Naté,
Gastr Del Sol,
Absolute Body Control,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Clear Light,
The Fugs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Slackers,
Matthew Bourne,
World's Most,
Sällskapet,
Wasted Youth,
Archie Shepp,
Livin' Joy,
the Soft Cell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cal Tjader,
D'Angelo,
Crooked Eye,
Reuben Wilson,
Outsiders,
Steve Hackett,
Rod Modell,
Slave,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Roger Hodgson,
Thee Headcoats,
Lalann,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.