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 Rwanda and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 dance 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba 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 chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jandek,
Matthew Halsall,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sandy B,
China Crisis,
the Swans,
Soulsonic Force,
the Slits,
Bill Near,
John Foxx,
Talk Talk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Leaves,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Music Machine,
Arab on Radar,
Chrome,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Suburban Knight,
Kaleidoscope,
the Bar-Kays,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jeff Mills,
The Young Rascals,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare,
the Soft Cell,
The Five Americans,
Gabor Szabo,
X-102,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The J.B.'s,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deepchord,
Magma,
Mantronix,
Jeru the Damaja,
Blossom Toes,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Gap Band,
Marine Girls,
The Smiths,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Stooges,
Gang Green,
Steve Hackett,
R.M.O.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barbara Tucker,
The Offenders,
Mars,
Mr. Review,
DNA,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.