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 Gambia and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe 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 Marshall Jefferson to the funk 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Black Bananas,
Severed Heads,
Skaos,
Symarip,
H. Thieme,
Yazoo,
Lakeside,
Donny Hathaway,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Los Fastidios,
Smog,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sam Rivers,
The Dead C,
The Wake,
Fugazi,
Minnie Riperton,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Womack,
Judy Mowatt,
Liliput,
Pharoah Sanders,
OOIOO,
The Litter,
Radio Birdman,
Jacob Miller,
48th St. Collective,
Anakelly,
Silicon Teens,
Crispian St. Peters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Television,
Index,
Desert Stars,
Mantronix,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Names,
DNA,
Newcleus,
Au Pairs,
John Coltrane,
Archie Shepp,
Panda Bear,
Peter & Gordon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Monochrome Set,
Big Daddy Kane,
Subhumans,
Eli Mardock,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Christie,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Heaven 17,
Monolake,
Depeche Mode,
Ten City,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.