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 Tonga and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Panda Bear to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sister Nancy,
L. Decosne,
Glenn Branca,
The Last Poets,
Skriet,
Intrusion,
Television,
Gang Starr,
The Divine Comedy,
The Durutti Column,
Can,
David Bowie,
K-Klass,
the Germs,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers,
X-102,
Tommy Roe,
Sight & Sound,
the Slits,
Sam Rivers,
The Kinks,
Surgeon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Letta Mbulu,
Kenny Larkin,
Quadrant,
Ultravox,
Barbara Tucker,
Arcadia,
Silicon Teens,
Royal Trux,
Byron Stingily,
Ultra Naté,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims,
The United States of America,
Basic Channel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stereo Dub,
Ultimate Spinach,
Idris Muhammad,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rod Modell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bluetip,
Kas Product,
Crime,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cymande,
The Searchers,
The Misunderstood,
Das Ding,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
New York Dolls,
The Wake,
These Immortal Souls,
Man Parrish,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.