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 Saudi Arabia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Radiohead to the jazz 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 The Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Steve Hackett,
The Blues Magoos,
ABBA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Loose Ends,
Radio Birdman,
Harmonia,
Sister Nancy,
Gichy Dan,
Zero Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Althea and Donna,
Pussy Galore,
Cabaret Voltaire,
It's A Beautiful Day,
JFA,
The Doors,
Freddie Wadling,
Mary Jane Girls,
Goldenarms,
Dual Sessions,
Amazonics,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ossler,
The Fugs,
The Star Department,
Ronan,
Black Sheep,
Scientists,
Maurizio,
The Stooges,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Laurel Aitken,
The Blackbyrds,
AZ,
Godley & Creme,
Angry Samoans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dawn Penn,
Public Enemy,
Half Japanese,
Joe Finger,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cameo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nils Olav,
Eurythmics,
DJ Style,
Barry Ungar,
The Sonics,
The United States of America,
Symarip,
the Slits,
Easy Going,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lindisfarne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joyce Sims,
Man Parrish,
Anthony Braxton,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.