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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 The Fugs to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Robert Wyatt,
Roxy Music,
CMW,
Sonny Sharrock,
Spoonie Gee,
The Invisible,
Yusef Lateef,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Detroit Cobras,
X-Ray Spex,
Cymande,
Barrington Levy,
Altered Images,
The Durutti Column,
K-Klass,
Mad Mike,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Amon Düül II,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Swans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Colin Newman,
Main Source,
World's Most,
Absolute Body Control,
Nils Olav,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mr. Review,
Sällskapet,
Index,
The Buckinghams,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Sherman,
Skriet,
Underground Resistance,
Isaac Hayes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wings,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Move,
Boredoms,
Monks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Con Funk Shun,
Reuben Wilson,
Eli Mardock,
Delta 5,
James Chance & The Contortions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Red Krayola,
Scan 7,
Magma,
Easy Going,
Minny Pops,
Leonard Cohen,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Suicide,
Aaron Thompson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.