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 Chile and from Accra.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Public Image Ltd. to the grime 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
KRS-One,
Wolf Eyes,
Monolake,
The Birthday Party,
the Swans,
The Cure,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tubeway Army,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pierre Henry,
Sällskapet,
Schoolly D,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
World's Most,
The Remains,
Bobby Womack,
Patti Smith,
Monks,
Mad Mike,
David Bowie,
Scientists,
Khruangbin,
Section 25,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dead Boys,
Q and Not U,
MDC,
Toni Rubio,
Pere Ubu,
The Count Five,
Motorama,
Bad Manners,
Nas,
Kayak,
Rekid,
David Axelrod,
Brothers Johnson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scott Walker,
Au Pairs,
Bluetip,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
Siglo XX,
Blake Baxter,
Girls At Our Best!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Todd Terry,
Marine Girls,
The Happenings,
Bang On A Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Panda Bear,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
ABBA,
Slick Rick,
Adolescents,
Arab on Radar,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.