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 Monaco and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Smog to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Little Man,
Malaria!,
Scan 7,
Funky Four + One,
The Fall,
Inner City,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
La Düsseldorf,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crash Course in Science,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Goldenarms,
Khruangbin,
Charles Mingus,
Newcleus,
The Fortunes,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Moody Blues,
Marvin Gaye,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barbara Tucker,
John Foxx,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sex Pistols,
Can,
Max Romeo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
Quantec,
Wasted Youth,
Pole,
Pussy Galore,
Half Japanese,
Matthew Halsall,
This Heat,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pagans,
Nick Fraelich,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Christie,
Ornette Coleman,
Groovy Waters,
Motorama,
Model 500,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dead Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Warren Ellis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Trumans Water,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arcadia,
FM Einheit,
Fluxion,
Althea and Donna,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fela Kuti,
Gichy Dan,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.