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 Venezuela and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the techno 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Jacques Brel,
Barbara Tucker,
EPMD,
Camouflage,
Deadbeat,
Monks,
Neu!,
The Last Poets,
Technova,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Smiths,
H. Thieme,
Maurizio,
UT,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang of Four,
Scion,
Judy Mowatt,
Skriet,
R.M.O.,
Aural Exciters,
The Golliwogs,
Clear Light,
Donny Hathaway,
The Dave Clark Five,
Agitation Free,
Suicide,
The Selecter,
Procol Harum,
Nick Fraelich,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kurtis Blow,
Harry Pussy,
Reuben Wilson,
D'Angelo,
The Slits,
The American Breed,
Swans,
Sam Rivers,
Bill Near,
Minny Pops,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jeff Mills,
The New Christs,
The Electric Prunes,
Prince Buster,
a-ha,
Quando Quango,
Blake Baxter,
Michelle Simonal,
Josef K,
Black Sheep,
Cal Tjader,
The Grass Roots,
The Fire Engines,
Bush Tetras,
Average White Band,
Grey Daturas,
Mark Hollis,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.