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 Bangladesh and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Danielle Patucci to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
The Modern Lovers,
Youth Brigade,
Skriet,
Michelle Simonal,
Avey Tare,
Rapeman,
Anakelly,
Grauzone,
Porter Ricks,
Mark Hollis,
Ronnie Foster,
The Monks,
Matthew Halsall,
Shuggie Otis,
the Slits,
The Divine Comedy,
Trumans Water,
Masters at Work,
Adolescents,
Spandau Ballet,
Skaos,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Guru Guru,
Boredoms,
CMW,
John Lydon,
Soul II Soul,
The Names,
Magazine,
LL Cool J,
Rekid,
Radiopuhelimet,
Theoretical Girls,
Newcleus,
Spoonie Gee,
Ponytail,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harpers Bizarre,
Amon Düül,
Brothers Johnson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gladiators,
Whodini,
Erykah Badu,
Royal Trux,
Davy DMX,
Henry Cow,
Unrelated Segments,
Kurtis Blow,
The Moleskins,
China Crisis,
Pantaleimon,
The Fall,
H. Thieme,
Jeff Lynne,
Althea and Donna,
Tubeway Army,
Black Pus,
T. Rex,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.