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 Turkey and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe 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 Surgeon to the dance 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
The Star Department,
Cecil Taylor,
Eli Mardock,
Cameo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
China Crisis,
Henry Cow,
The Durutti Column,
Alison Limerick,
Brick,
The Divine Comedy,
the Normal,
Ituana,
The Shadows of Knight,
Barry Ungar,
Marine Girls,
The Litter,
T. Rex,
Crime,
Matthew Halsall,
June Days,
The Fuzztones,
Cybotron,
Oblivians,
Pagans,
MDC,
Subhumans,
The Sound,
Scott Walker,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Fall,
Oneida,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marmalade,
Public Image Ltd.,
Brand Nubian,
The Gladiators,
Suburban Knight,
The Evens,
John Foxx,
The Stooges,
John Holt,
The Vogues,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quando Quango,
Q and Not U,
The Real Kids,
Technova,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Steve Hackett,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
MC5,
Bobby Byrd,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mission of Burma,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mo-Dettes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cal Tjader,
Darondo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.