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 Paraguay and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Michael McDonald 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 Absolute Body Control to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
JFA,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Donny Hathaway,
Marmalade,
Radio Birdman,
Black Pus,
MC5,
Ornette Coleman,
Mantronix,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ronnie Foster,
Sam Rivers,
Chris & Cosey,
Flipper,
The Blues Magoos,
EPMD,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Moon,
the Swans,
Dennis Brown,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joyce Sims,
The Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
Rosa Yemen,
Lakeside,
Slave,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Byron Stingily,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
KRS-One,
the Slits,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cecil Taylor,
Spoonie Gee,
Harpers Bizarre,
Faust,
Godley & Creme,
Main Source,
Faraquet,
The Remains,
The Barracudas,
Circle Jerks,
Darondo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aloha Tigers,
10cc,
New Age Steppers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eden Ahbez,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lalann,
Symarip,
Davy DMX,
The Gladiators,
Theoretical Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
June Days,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.