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 Norway and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dawn Penn,
Joensuu 1685,
Max Romeo,
Popol Vuh,
Cluster,
Simply Red,
Marine Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unrelated Segments,
Adolescents,
The American Breed,
Yazoo,
Aloha Tigers,
The Birthday Party,
Toni Rubio,
Parry Music,
Gichy Dan,
Jandek,
Eden Ahbez,
Chris Corsano,
Oneida,
Mark Hollis,
Nik Kershaw,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Maurizio,
the Slits,
U.S. Maple,
Neu!,
Altered Images,
Gabor Szabo,
The J.B.'s,
Tom Boy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Black Dice,
Sonic Youth,
Lungfish,
Vladislav Delay,
Ten City,
Slave,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Star Department,
Glenn Branca,
Inner City,
Nico,
Hasil Adkins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quantec,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Womack,
The Smoke,
The Gories,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Connie Case,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare,
Lindisfarne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Steve Hackett,
Gang of Four,
Amon Düül II,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.