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 Indonesia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Country Teasers to the grunge 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Circle Jerks,
Idris Muhammad,
The Modern Lovers,
Outsiders,
Gabor Szabo,
The Smoke,
Quando Quango,
Fad Gadget,
Simply Red,
Rapeman,
John Lydon,
Wasted Youth,
This Heat,
Altered Images,
Aloha Tigers,
Kerri Chandler,
Maleditus Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Kenny Larkin,
Lou Christie,
Faraquet,
Drexciya,
Alton Ellis,
F. McDonald,
Laurel Aitken,
Vainqueur,
Visage,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Donny Hathaway,
Radiopuhelimet,
48th St. Collective,
Scan 7,
Max Romeo,
The Fire Engines,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultra Naté,
Skaos,
Clear Light,
Zapp,
The American Breed,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
David Axelrod,
Susan Cadogan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Bananas,
Shuggie Otis,
Bob Dylan,
Godley & Creme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tomorrow,
Aural Exciters,
Loose Ends,
Niagra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flipper,
Second Layer,
Groovy Waters,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.