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 Burkina and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Mr. Review to the disco 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar 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 clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Ossler,
Alphaville,
Minny Pops,
The Cowsills,
Mantronix,
Slave,
Popol Vuh,
Symarip,
Pantaleimon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The J.B.'s,
Banda Bassotti,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Motions,
Rakim,
The Neon Judgement,
Pierre Henry,
Dawn Penn,
Pulsallama,
Robert Görl,
Newcleus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Moon,
Sugar Minott,
Deepchord,
Unrelated Segments,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Malaria!,
Deadbeat,
Surgeon,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Young Rascals,
Joyce Sims,
The Electric Prunes,
World's Most,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Names,
Steve Hackett,
Dorothy Ashby,
Johnny Clarke,
The Flesh Eaters,
Index,
Pylon,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Warsaw,
The Vogues,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jerry's Kids,
Thompson Twins,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Germs,
Con Funk Shun,
Davy DMX,
The Beau Brummels,
Swell Maps,
Tim Buckley,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tres Demented,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.