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 Papua New Guinea and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe 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 The Martian to the grime 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Skriet,
Malaria!,
Depeche Mode,
Symarip,
CMW,
Iggy Pop,
Carl Craig,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Anakelly,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gabor Szabo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hoover,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yazoo,
The Monks,
X-101,
The Mummies,
Rekid,
Fad Gadget,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amazonics,
Delta 5,
T.S.O.L.,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Sherman,
Half Japanese,
Minor Threat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hasil Adkins,
Sonic Youth,
Sun Ra,
Lower 48,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dark Day,
Bronski Beat,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Searchers,
UT,
Second Layer,
The Litter,
Dave Gahan,
Au Pairs,
Youth Brigade,
The Barracudas,
John Foxx,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Birthday Party,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pagans,
Ultravox,
Animal Collective,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cheater Slicks,
U.S. Maple,
Jawbox,
EPMD,
Ken Boothe,
Flamin' Groovies,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus 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.