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 Ireland and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the punk 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
UT,
Brass Construction,
Dark Day,
Davy DMX,
John Holt,
Isaac Hayes,
Bill Near,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
These Immortal Souls,
The Moody Blues,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nick Fraelich,
Funky Four + One,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sixth Finger,
Freddie Wadling,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fortunes,
Todd Rundgren,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Sheep,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lungfish,
Rapeman,
Eden Ahbez,
Marcia Griffiths,
Todd Terry,
Rotary Connection,
Tubeway Army,
The Index,
Tommy Roe,
The Motions,
Symarip,
Pantaleimon,
Lower 48,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Monks,
Shuggie Otis,
Kayak,
Bill Wells,
Con Funk Shun,
Model 500,
Fela Kuti,
Sarah Menescal,
Q and Not U,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Archie Shepp,
Pussy Galore,
Whodini,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Interpol,
the Soft Cell,
World's Most,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Minny Pops,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.