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 New Zealand and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 John Lydon to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Grass Roots,
Jandek,
Half Japanese,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fad Gadget,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Arthur Verocai,
The Pop Group,
Max Romeo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gabor Szabo,
Heaven 17,
DJ Sneak,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rakim,
Lalann,
Monks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The United States of America,
Danielle Patucci,
Sam Rivers,
Rosa Yemen,
Crime,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mark Hollis,
Ohio Players,
Y Pants,
Moss Icon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Supertramp,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hoover,
The Buckinghams,
Minny Pops,
The Moody Blues,
Procol Harum,
the Germs,
Terry Callier,
Skarface,
Shoche,
Kas Product,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Technova,
Bronski Beat,
Groovy Waters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Reuben Wilson,
Sound Behaviour,
The Sound,
Faraquet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Henry Cow,
10cc,
Marmalade,
Gong,
Fugazi,
Alice Coltrane,
Altered Images,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Babytalk,
Eve St. Jones,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.