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 South Sudan and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
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 rhodes 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 The Doors to the rock 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
The J.B.'s,
The Knickerbockers,
cv313,
Johnny Osbourne,
DJ Style,
Graham Central Station,
The Kinks,
Simply Red,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nik Kershaw,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fugazi,
ABBA,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lalann,
Japan,
A Certain Ratio,
Magazine,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Sonics,
Lindisfarne,
KRS-One,
Anthony Braxton,
Reagan Youth,
Donny Hathaway,
The United States of America,
Blake Baxter,
Qualms,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Lydon,
Sound Behaviour,
The Sonics,
Rufus Thomas,
Pussy Galore,
Unwound,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marmalade,
Man Parrish,
The Fugs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Pus,
John Coltrane,
Kurtis Blow,
Arthur Verocai,
Sexual Harrassment,
Amon Düül,
Marcia Griffiths,
June Days,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Liliput,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Guru Guru,
Eric Dolphy,
Sixth Finger,
Kenny Larkin,
Supertramp,
Altered Images,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dual Sessions,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.