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 Nigeria and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 T. Rex to the disco 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '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 Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
The Sonics,
The Fall,
The Martian,
Bush Tetras,
Electric Prunes,
Nirvana,
The Litter,
Newcleus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Juan Atkins,
The Fuzztones,
Ice-T,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Slackers,
Sun City Girls,
The Cure,
Brand Nubian,
ABC,
Deadbeat,
Blossom Toes,
Sound Behaviour,
Franke,
Delta 5,
Cheater Slicks,
Joey Negro,
Surgeon,
The Dead C,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Golliwogs,
Ossler,
Public Image Ltd.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
A Certain Ratio,
Joy Division,
Porter Ricks,
Con Funk Shun,
Supertramp,
Reagan Youth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Harmonia,
Glenn Branca,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Matthew Halsall,
Roxy Music,
Depeche Mode,
The Kinks,
Blake Baxter,
Nick Fraelich,
Alton Ellis,
Subhumans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Interpol,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang of Four,
Joe Finger,
The Angels of Light,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Swans,
Althea and Donna,
Ultravox,
Man Parrish,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.