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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Pole,
Lungfish,
The New Christs,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Birthday Party,
James White and The Blacks,
The Real Kids,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
David Bowie,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
La Düsseldorf,
Liliput,
Patti Smith,
Jesper Dahlback,
D'Angelo,
Kenny Larkin,
Franke,
Monks,
Vladislav Delay,
Japan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Young Rascals,
Robert Hood,
The Monochrome Set,
Harry Pussy,
Television,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Saccharine Trust,
The Music Machine,
Tommy Roe,
a-ha,
Neu!,
Wings,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mark Hollis,
Eve St. Jones,
Nirvana,
Fear,
Chris Corsano,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Al Stewart,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The United States of America,
Derrick Morgan,
Sugar Minott,
Maleditus Sound,
Q65,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rekid,
The Techniques,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Albert Ayler,
Mars,
The Fuzztones,
Minutemen,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crispian St. Peters,
Khruangbin,
UT,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.