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 Belgium and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Charles Mingus to the funk 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Al Stewart,
Organ,
the Soft Cell,
The Last Poets,
Joensuu 1685,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lakeside,
kango's stein massive,
The Five Americans,
Echospace,
The Black Dice,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sparks,
Oblivians,
the Slits,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Qualms,
T.S.O.L.,
Peter and Kerry,
Andrew Hill,
the Association,
The Monks,
The Seeds,
Model 500,
Cabaret Voltaire,
In Retrospect,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faraquet,
Harry Pussy,
Isaac Hayes,
La Düsseldorf,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ice-T,
Subhumans,
Sarah Menescal,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gichy Dan,
Sound Behaviour,
Fugazi,
June Days,
Toni Rubio,
H. Thieme,
Fat Boys,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Johnny Osbourne,
Man Parrish,
The Raincoats,
The Stooges,
Pere Ubu,
Wire,
Drive Like Jehu,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Livin' Joy,
Das Ding,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gil Scott Heron,
AZ,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dennis Brown,
Spoonie Gee,
Liliput,
Silicon Teens,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.