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 Syria and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar 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 the Human League to the jazz 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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Brothers Johnson,
The Monks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aaron Thompson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sister Nancy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sandy B,
DNA,
Mars,
This Heat,
Black Sheep,
The Offenders,
Simply Red,
Kurtis Blow,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marine Girls,
Shoche,
Jawbox,
Jacques Brel,
Urselle,
Trumans Water,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Arthur Verocai,
Barrington Levy,
Bob Dylan,
Babytalk,
Agitation Free,
Hasil Adkins,
Godley & Creme,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Maurizio,
Crime,
The Modern Lovers,
Desert Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Camberwell Now,
The United States of America,
DJ Sneak,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Real Kids,
Mad Mike,
Can,
Hashim,
Buzzcocks,
Magma,
The Stooges,
The Angels of Light,
Anthony Braxton,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sugar Minott,
the Normal,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Johnny Clarke,
the Soft Cell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.