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 Jordan 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar 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 X-101 to the dance 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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kerri Chandler,
Lyres,
The Remains,
Colin Newman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blossom Toes,
The Mummies,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Index,
Matthew Halsall,
Nico,
Cluster,
Dead Boys,
Black Flag,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alice Coltrane,
Cybotron,
Sällskapet,
Bush Tetras,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Alphaville,
June Days,
Roger Hodgson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crispian St. Peters,
Second Layer,
the Soft Cell,
New Age Steppers,
Tres Demented,
Ohio Players,
Fugazi,
Siglo XX,
Gang Starr,
Sparks,
E-Dancer,
Crime,
Dave Gahan,
Von Mondo,
Scott Walker,
Reuben Wilson,
Rapeman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chris Corsano,
T.S.O.L.,
Iggy Pop,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ice-T,
Magma,
Negative Approach,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Royal Trux,
The Searchers,
One Last Wish,
Tim Buckley,
Soft Cell,
DJ Sneak,
Maurizio,
Symarip,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.