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 Mauritania and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe 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 The American Breed to the dance 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eli Mardock,
Los Fastidios,
The Dirtbombs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Remains,
The Neon Judgement,
the Association,
X-101,
Audionom,
The Fortunes,
Oblivians,
Soul II Soul,
The Motions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deakin,
Thompson Twins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Erykah Badu,
Joy Division,
Brothers Johnson,
The Saints,
Surgeon,
Sight & Sound,
Bluetip,
Unrelated Segments,
Josef K,
Tom Boy,
Franke,
Wire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Slave,
Minny Pops,
Monks,
Pagans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Matthew Bourne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soft Machine,
Faraquet,
Scratch Acid,
Faust,
Mars,
Ronnie Foster,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lungfish,
Quando Quango,
Pylon,
Jacques Brel,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scrapy,
Rapeman,
Yusef Lateef,
48th St. Collective,
Delon & Dalcan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jawbox,
the Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Kinks,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.