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 East Timor and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 The Doobie Brothers to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Jeff Lynne,
The Busters,
The Fortunes,
Glenn Branca,
Josef K,
Jawbox,
the Association,
Motorama,
Arcadia,
Duran Duran,
Davy DMX,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Techniques,
Theoretical Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Blossom Toes,
Black Flag,
Max Romeo,
Faraquet,
R.M.O.,
Piero Umiliani,
MC5,
The Gories,
Metal Thangz,
Anthony Braxton,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Sonics,
Heaven 17,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harpers Bizarre,
cv313,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cameo,
The Walker Brothers,
Isaac Hayes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stereo Dub,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Sherman,
Pantaleimon,
Charles Mingus,
Niagra,
The Divine Comedy,
Minor Threat,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barclay James Harvest,
Country Teasers,
Derrick Morgan,
Lindisfarne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wire,
Goldenarms,
Joensuu 1685,
Electric Prunes,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.