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 Korea South and from New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultra Naté to the funk 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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
The Pop Group,
Scion,
Gastr Del Sol,
UT,
Faraquet,
Ossler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DJ Style,
Warsaw,
Gang Starr,
John Coltrane,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Glenn Branca,
Joey Negro,
Pulsallama,
Rod Modell,
The Vogues,
Eric Copeland,
Derrick Morgan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Surgeon,
AZ,
Zero Boys,
The Trojans,
Fat Boys,
Andrew Hill,
The Saints,
The Leaves,
The Toasters,
Cluster,
Jesper Dahlback,
Das Ding,
Albert Ayler,
Scrapy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Smog,
The Cowsills,
Sarah Menescal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Excepter,
John Foxx,
The Motions,
The Raincoats,
Von Mondo,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Gun Club,
Pierre Henry,
T. Rex,
Sandy B,
Black Bananas,
Barrington Levy,
Bush Tetras,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Birthday Party,
DJ Sneak,
Can,
Half Japanese,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.