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 Kyrgyzstan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 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 Jeru the Damaja to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin 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 mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Sister Nancy,
New York Dolls,
New Order,
Magazine,
Robert Görl,
Eric B and Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
James White and The Blacks,
Clear Light,
Ohio Players,
The Residents,
Ludus,
The Modern Lovers,
Freddie Wadling,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Amon Düül II,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Unrelated Segments,
Rhythm & Sound,
The J.B.'s,
Roxy Music,
Shuggie Otis,
The Monks,
Yellowson,
U.S. Maple,
Urselle,
The Last Poets,
Infiniti,
Lindisfarne,
Tomorrow,
Bluetip,
Oblivians,
The Moody Blues,
Kurtis Blow,
Buzzcocks,
Jacob Miller,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Faraquet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Subhumans,
the Association,
Roxette,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fugs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Schoolly D,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cure,
Country Teasers,
A Certain Ratio,
The Star Department,
Kenny Larkin,
Quantec,
The Angels of Light,
Scan 7,
Michelle Simonal,
Angry Samoans,
Josef K,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.