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 Botswana and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 June Days to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron 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 organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Roxette,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mission of Burma,
Gerry Rafferty,
New Order,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Donald Byrd,
Andrew Hill,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nirvana,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alice Coltrane,
Index,
Quantec,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Loose Ends,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Searchers,
The Moody Blues,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
Crash Course in Science,
Icehouse,
Mandrill,
Maleditus Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Leonard Cohen,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Womack,
Roger Hodgson,
Don Cherry,
Niagra,
Wally Richardson,
Circle Jerks,
Fluxion,
Sex Pistols,
Excepter,
The Mighty Diamonds,
X-101,
Audionom,
Althea and Donna,
the Slits,
Eddi Front,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Harmonia,
Scion,
the Sonics,
Ice-T,
The Litter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alphaville,
Joe Smooth,
Urselle,
The Gladiators,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.