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 Turkmenistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Bronski Beat to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Pulsallama,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Don Cherry,
Buzzcocks,
Scan 7,
Rufus Thomas,
48th St. Collective,
Kas Product,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Matthew Halsall,
Qualms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roger Hodgson,
La Düsseldorf,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Frankie Knuckles,
The American Breed,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gabor Szabo,
Sun City Girls,
Tim Buckley,
The Mummies,
Stereo Dub,
Joe Finger,
The Martian,
Rosa Yemen,
Hasil Adkins,
Dave Gahan,
John Holt,
Eric Dolphy,
Reagan Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Bar-Kays,
Boogie Down Productions,
Arcadia,
Simply Red,
Nation of Ulysses,
Moebius,
Alice Coltrane,
Swans,
Todd Terry,
David Axelrod,
Rotary Connection,
Barrington Levy,
Royal Trux,
Swell Maps,
The Fall,
MC5,
X-Ray Spex,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Josef K,
Porter Ricks,
OOIOO,
Man Parrish,
Junior Murvin,
Pantytec,
the Germs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Desert Stars,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.