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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin 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 Radiohead to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Iggy Pop,
Sexual Harrassment,
Amon Düül II,
Sun Ra,
Reagan Youth,
Cal Tjader,
The Litter,
Model 500,
Niagra,
Crispian St. Peters,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Real Kids,
Tom Boy,
Tubeway Army,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Anakelly,
Eli Mardock,
The Sonics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ken Boothe,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dark Day,
Amon Düül,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sister Nancy,
MDC,
Frankie Knuckles,
Television,
Lalo Schifrin,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Byrd,
Stereo Dub,
Agent Orange,
Nation of Ulysses,
Warsaw,
Robert Wyatt,
Rapeman,
Janne Schatter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Goldenarms,
Drexciya,
Ronan,
Arab on Radar,
Simply Red,
the Bar-Kays,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bill Near,
Kayak,
B.T. Express,
Essential Logic,
Royal Trux,
Lindisfarne,
Babytalk,
Gang of Four,
The Beau Brummels,
Yaz,
Camberwell Now,
Reuben Wilson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.