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 Russia 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Laurel Aitken to the funk 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
48th St. Collective,
Sun Ra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Toasters,
Motorama,
Procol Harum,
Au Pairs,
Roxy Music,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eddi Front,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sparks,
Underground Resistance,
June of 44,
Barry Ungar,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Barrington Levy,
Junior Murvin,
The United States of America,
The Golliwogs,
The Trojans,
Average White Band,
Albert Ayler,
Vainqueur,
The Smoke,
Clear Light,
Brothers Johnson,
The Victims,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Babytalk,
Davy DMX,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kerri Chandler,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Normal,
Janne Schatter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Michelle Simonal,
The American Breed,
Cymande,
The Fugs,
Fatback Band,
Alton Ellis,
Dark Day,
Bronski Beat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bluetip,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
JFA,
The Last Poets,
Robert Görl,
Man Parrish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lou Christie,
Agent Orange,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wire,
Gabor Szabo,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.