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 Equatorial Guinea and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 Harpers Bizarre to the techno 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Sex Pistols,
Slave,
Y Pants,
Second Layer,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deakin,
The Offenders,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Iggy Pop,
Fear,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Peter & Gordon,
Quantec,
Soulsonic Force,
The Smoke,
Flamin' Groovies,
Alice Coltrane,
Lower 48,
Robert Hood,
Graham Central Station,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Television Personalities,
Lungfish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Smog,
X-102,
Theoretical Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Henry Cow,
Black Moon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Newcleus,
This Heat,
Lee Hazlewood,
Little Man,
Nils Olav,
Yusef Lateef,
Country Teasers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dave Gahan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
New Order,
Marshall Jefferson,
Echospace,
Sällskapet,
The Moleskins,
Vladislav Delay,
Stetsasonic,
Connie Case,
the Sonics,
The Cure,
Neu!,
L. Decosne,
Althea and Donna,
Alison Limerick,
T. Rex,
The Dave Clark Five,
China Crisis,
Roger Hodgson,
Avey Tare,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.