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 Finland and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bill Near to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin 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 snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Lalann,
Pere Ubu,
Lindisfarne,
Absolute Body Control,
the Association,
B.T. Express,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ice-T,
Desert Stars,
The Sound,
Sällskapet,
Faraquet,
Royal Trux,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Zero Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
Deepchord,
Gong,
Stetsasonic,
The Modern Lovers,
The Red Krayola,
Harry Pussy,
E-Dancer,
Bronski Beat,
Archie Shepp,
Cal Tjader,
Basic Channel,
Mark Hollis,
China Crisis,
Joey Negro,
Arab on Radar,
Suburban Knight,
Tears for Fears,
Robert Wyatt,
Magma,
Moby Grape,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pagans,
Judy Mowatt,
The Misunderstood,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lyres,
Jandek,
Sonic Youth,
Reuben Wilson,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Monks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scan 7,
Brick,
Depeche Mode,
John Holt,
Nik Kershaw,
A Certain Ratio,
Porter Ricks,
This Heat,
Todd Terry,
Audionom,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.