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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Paris.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 chamberlin 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 La Düsseldorf to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Wings,
PIL,
Soul Sonic Force,
Malaria!,
David Axelrod,
Lou Christie,
Joensuu 1685,
Interpol,
Unrelated Segments,
Yusef Lateef,
The Red Krayola,
The Kinks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cecil Taylor,
Howard Jones,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Cale,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Pus,
Model 500,
Iggy Pop,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sugar Minott,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Underground Resistance,
MDC,
the Normal,
Circle Jerks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Leonard Cohen,
The Monochrome Set,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Camberwell Now,
The Toasters,
The Wake,
R.M.O.,
New York Dolls,
Theoretical Girls,
Marc Almond,
Todd Terry,
Dead Boys,
Pere Ubu,
Sandy B,
Prince Buster,
Tommy Roe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Monolake,
Darondo,
Make Up,
Moby Grape,
The Mummies,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Glambeats Corp.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barry Ungar,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.