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 Japan and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
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 sitar 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 Kurtis Blow to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Index,
Mars,
Deadbeat,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Womack,
the Germs,
Bush Tetras,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roxy Music,
Scientists,
The Doors,
Barry Ungar,
The Fire Engines,
The Mojo Men,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lightning Bolt,
FM Einheit,
The United States of America,
Kerri Chandler,
The Raincoats,
The Five Americans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Max Romeo,
Guru Guru,
Soft Cell,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Count Five,
Johnny Clarke,
Archie Shepp,
Patti Smith,
Hasil Adkins,
Talk Talk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fear,
Nas,
Bad Manners,
Crash Course in Science,
Silicon Teens,
Liliput,
Kas Product,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Skriet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Howard Jones,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fat Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Jacob Miller,
The Dead C,
The Durutti Column,
cv313,
Oneida,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Quadrant,
The Fuzztones,
Television Personalities,
Unwound,
David Axelrod,
T. Rex,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.