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 Marshall Islands and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Darondo to the grunge 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Wings,
The Invisible,
Rekid,
Can,
Quantec,
The Gories,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marine Girls,
LL Cool J,
Rakim,
Animal Collective,
Harry Pussy,
Kayak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pierre Henry,
Todd Terry,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gun Club,
Graham Central Station,
The Buckinghams,
Section 25,
Moebius,
Ossler,
Pantytec,
Joyce Sims,
Hashim,
Youth Brigade,
Andrew Hill,
The Pretty Things,
Basic Channel,
Zero Boys,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gladiators,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
R.M.O.,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deakin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Patti Smith,
Qualms,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pylon,
Underground Resistance,
Camouflage,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Delta 5,
Spoonie Gee,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
These Immortal Souls,
Minny Pops,
ABC,
Godley & Creme,
T.S.O.L.,
Kerri Chandler,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.