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 Netherlands and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Minnie Riperton to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Gories,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roxette,
The Golliwogs,
Angry Samoans,
Erasure,
H. Thieme,
The Cowsills,
Stiv Bators,
Andrew Hill,
Kool Moe Dee,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Man Parrish,
Trumans Water,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Barry Ungar,
Television Personalities,
Shoche,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Searchers,
Thompson Twins,
Sugar Minott,
Derrick Morgan,
Niagra,
The Black Dice,
Lungfish,
D'Angelo,
KRS-One,
Jerry's Kids,
Faust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Residents,
Magma,
The Index,
One Last Wish,
Jawbox,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Leaves,
Lower 48,
Derrick May,
Electric Prunes,
Tommy Roe,
Surgeon,
The Selecter,
Arthur Verocai,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pere Ubu,
Talk Talk,
The Move,
Chrome,
Ice-T,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.