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 Panama and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Modern Lovers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Roy Ayers,
Brass Construction,
Robert Görl,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Neu!,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Leaves,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Pretty Things,
Radio Birdman,
Groovy Waters,
Masters at Work,
Goldenarms,
Andrew Hill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ludus,
CMW,
Mark Hollis,
Wasted Youth,
Roxette,
Aswad,
Dave Gahan,
The Residents,
Max Romeo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quantec,
Pussy Galore,
Leonard Cohen,
48th St. Collective,
Electric Prunes,
Erykah Badu,
K-Klass,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sugar Minott,
Bauhaus,
the Sonics,
Nils Olav,
Rekid,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Clear Light,
Gang of Four,
Ronan,
Outsiders,
Minutemen,
The Human League,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moss Icon,
Vladislav Delay,
Rakim,
Tubeway Army,
Barry Ungar,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Sherman,
John Coltrane,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Five Americans,
Mars,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.