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 Niger and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Cale to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rapeman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sandy B,
Brass Construction,
Erykah Badu,
Oblivians,
Tropical Tobacco,
Smog,
Bobby Womack,
Cameo,
Slick Rick,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soul II Soul,
Gastr Del Sol,
A Certain Ratio,
The Moleskins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Index,
Joy Division,
Barrington Levy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Faust,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Matthew Bourne,
Wolf Eyes,
The Skatalites,
Sällskapet,
Arab on Radar,
DJ Sneak,
Dawn Penn,
Crash Course in Science,
Freddie Wadling,
Amazonics,
Blancmange,
Dave Gahan,
Franke,
The Vogues,
Alice Coltrane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Slits,
Crooked Eye,
Can,
Echospace,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Fortunes,
Panda Bear,
New York Dolls,
The Techniques,
The Tremeloes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ice-T,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mark Hollis,
Morten Harket,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dirtbombs,
Crime,
The Doors,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.