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 India and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Malaria! to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Tomorrow,
Crime,
Underground Resistance,
Pagans,
Piero Umiliani,
The Gories,
Fluxion,
Eurythmics,
Josef K,
Wasted Youth,
The Beau Brummels,
Funkadelic,
The Motions,
Loose Ends,
10cc,
Duran Duran,
Inner City,
Sandy B,
Sonic Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Amon Düül II,
Lou Reed,
Bluetip,
The Blues Magoos,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dark Day,
Easy Going,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gong,
Skaos,
Mantronix,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magazine,
Rites of Spring,
The Last Poets,
The Durutti Column,
Rosa Yemen,
Khruangbin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Pus,
Erykah Badu,
Derrick May,
Brand Nubian,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cal Tjader,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scott Walker,
New York Dolls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Peter & Gordon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Babytalk,
Index,
the Slits,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.