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 Serbia and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fluxion to the grime 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bob Dylan,
The Busters,
The Last Poets,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scan 7,
Neil Young,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Count Five,
In Retrospect,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Sherman,
Charles Mingus,
L. Decosne,
Sex Pistols,
Lee Hazlewood,
Quantec,
Jeff Mills,
Deadbeat,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Pop Group,
Mission of Burma,
Aural Exciters,
Cheater Slicks,
Funky Four + One,
One Last Wish,
Tres Demented,
Rites of Spring,
Bill Near,
Blossom Toes,
Essential Logic,
Aloha Tigers,
Pole,
Pussy Galore,
Moby Grape,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hot Snakes,
Ponytail,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
the Bar-Kays,
Arcadia,
The Young Rascals,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Skatalites,
Brand Nubian,
DJ Style,
Average White Band,
New York Dolls,
Chris Corsano,
Arab on Radar,
R.M.O.,
Erasure,
Stereo Dub,
Soulsonic Force,
Eve St. Jones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Smog,
The Offenders,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.