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 Slovakia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Khruangbin to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Erasure,
Albert Ayler,
Kenny Larkin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aaron Thompson,
Ludus,
Lungfish,
The Techniques,
R.M.O.,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Moon,
OOIOO,
Gong,
Pere Ubu,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultra Naté,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang of Four,
Toni Rubio,
The Monochrome Set,
David Axelrod,
Lakeside,
The Remains,
Grauzone,
Massinfluence,
Fugazi,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lalann,
Marvin Gaye,
Agitation Free,
Arab on Radar,
The Angels of Light,
Porter Ricks,
Black Pus,
The Martian,
China Crisis,
David Bowie,
The Gories,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Moleskins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Freddie Wadling,
Kas Product,
The Flesh Eaters,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fall,
Bauhaus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Motorama,
Donald Byrd,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yazoo,
Johnny Clarke,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mark Hollis,
Second Layer,
Niagra,
Black Sheep,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.