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 Dominica and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 The Techniques to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Jacques Brel,
Sam Rivers,
the Association,
Cecil Taylor,
Duran Duran,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
MC5,
Chrome,
The Human League,
Camouflage,
The Stooges,
Bang On A Can,
Nik Kershaw,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Echospace,
The Standells,
Nas,
Ponytail,
The Tremeloes,
Steve Hackett,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mars,
Crime,
Y Pants,
Soft Cell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Velvet Underground,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Clarke,
Niagra,
These Immortal Souls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-Ray Spex,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Donald Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roxette,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Procol Harum,
U.S. Maple,
The Mummies,
Crash Course in Science,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Darondo,
Mr. Review,
Idris Muhammad,
John Holt,
The United States of America,
Con Funk Shun,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Motions,
B.T. Express,
Scratch Acid,
The Monochrome Set,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Isaac Hayes,
The Electric Prunes,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.