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 Kiribati and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Barclay James Harvest to the grunge 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultimate Spinach,
Heaven 17,
The Last Poets,
Index,
Mr. Review,
Eli Mardock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Prince Buster,
Q65,
Ultravox,
The Neon Judgement,
The Sonics,
Rufus Thomas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang On A Can,
Gang of Four,
Lou Christie,
The Offenders,
Unwound,
Robert Görl,
Crispy Ambulance,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
CMW,
Cheater Slicks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Aaron Thompson,
Man Parrish,
DJ Style,
The Fortunes,
Mantronix,
The Index,
Shuggie Otis,
Rakim,
Lyres,
Isaac Hayes,
Adolescents,
Whodini,
The Doobie Brothers,
R.M.O.,
Arthur Verocai,
Crime,
Terry Callier,
Lightning Bolt,
H. Thieme,
Smog,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Holt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soft Machine,
Jawbox,
the Fania All-Stars,
Surgeon,
Average White Band,
Todd Terry,
LL Cool J,
Fad Gadget,
Eddi Front,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The New Christs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.