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 Serbia and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Amon Düül to the electroclash 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
The Moleskins,
Khruangbin,
The Real Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Public Enemy,
Albert Ayler,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crooked Eye,
Bill Wells,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cal Tjader,
Grey Daturas,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Residents,
Alison Limerick,
Second Layer,
Depeche Mode,
the Bar-Kays,
Q and Not U,
Cluster,
Intrusion,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tres Demented,
Tears for Fears,
Brand Nubian,
The Dave Clark Five,
a-ha,
10cc,
Pagans,
The American Breed,
Pet Shop Boys,
Henry Cow,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tom Boy,
The Monks,
Suicide,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brothers Johnson,
Crime,
Pere Ubu,
Byron Stingily,
Gang of Four,
Eric B and Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
Zapp,
Kurtis Blow,
Todd Rundgren,
Chris & Cosey,
Heaven 17,
China Crisis,
The Golliwogs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Model 500,
Maleditus Sound,
Bob Dylan,
Joyce Sims,
The Dead C,
This Heat,
The J.B.'s,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.