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 Yemen and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Hasil Adkins to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 chamberlin and a sitar 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 arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Drexciya,
The Last Poets,
Arcadia,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Robert Hood,
Harmonia,
Sandy B,
Slave,
Los Fastidios,
John Coltrane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Guru Guru,
Roxy Music,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Charles Mingus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James White and The Blacks,
Thee Headcoats,
The Star Department,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Gladiators,
Mr. Review,
Grauzone,
New York Dolls,
Gang Green,
Marshall Jefferson,
New Age Steppers,
The Cure,
June Days,
Monks,
Fela Kuti,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cowsills,
Albert Ayler,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Doors,
The Trojans,
the Association,
Dawn Penn,
ABC,
Donny Hathaway,
Faraquet,
Piero Umiliani,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Music Machine,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Litter,
David McCallum,
The Victims,
Alphaville,
Judy Mowatt,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Womack,
Tommy Roe,
Lightning Bolt,
Boz Scaggs,
The Busters,
Can,
Moss Icon,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.