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 Senegal and from Taipei.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 E-Dancer to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Bill Wells,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Sonics,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Five Americans,
Gang Green,
Crime,
Al Stewart,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eden Ahbez,
Mars,
Alison Limerick,
The Kinks,
Byron Stingily,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Andrew Hill,
A Certain Ratio,
H. Thieme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roy Ayers,
Marine Girls,
Scan 7,
Fugazi,
Joyce Sims,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nico,
Popol Vuh,
The Tremeloes,
Laurel Aitken,
Piero Umiliani,
The Detroit Cobras,
La Düsseldorf,
Siglo XX,
Wings,
Negative Approach,
Jacques Brel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
48th St. Collective,
Television,
The Seeds,
Arcadia,
The Electric Prunes,
B.T. Express,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sonny Sharrock,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
L. Decosne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pulsallama,
Colin Newman,
Matthew Bourne,
Flipper,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aural Exciters,
Scion,
Leonard Cohen,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.