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 Comoros and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Joyce Sims to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Black Sheep,
The Saints,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ituana,
Colin Newman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
OOIOO,
The Vogues,
Desert Stars,
Alton Ellis,
Harry Pussy,
Amazonics,
Pet Shop Boys,
Idris Muhammad,
Pere Ubu,
The Count Five,
The Seeds,
Ronan,
Duran Duran,
Au Pairs,
Audionom,
Boogie Down Productions,
Donald Byrd,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Sonics,
X-102,
Avey Tare,
Little Man,
PIL,
Althea and Donna,
Pantytec,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Pretty Things,
CMW,
The Grass Roots,
Sexual Harrassment,
A Certain Ratio,
Scientists,
the Human League,
Maurizio,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Happenings,
Whodini,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Joe Smooth,
Amon Düül II,
Aswad,
Fluxion,
Jawbox,
Bauhaus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tres Demented,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bronski Beat,
Suicide,
Wally Richardson,
Quando Quango,
Al Stewart,
Ossler,
Marvin Gaye,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.