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 Kazakhstan and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Public Image Ltd. to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scott Walker,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bizarre Inc.,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Germs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
D'Angelo,
The Durutti Column,
Dawn Penn,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bill Wells,
The Fortunes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mojo Men,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Byrd,
Terry Callier,
Throbbing Gristle,
Brand Nubian,
Kevin Saunderson,
MC5,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cecil Taylor,
The Remains,
L. Decosne,
X-Ray Spex,
Severed Heads,
Ronnie Foster,
Warsaw,
The Last Poets,
Cluster,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Faraquet,
Siglo XX,
Black Bananas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sound Behaviour,
DJ Style,
Anthony Braxton,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Busters,
Cameo,
the Normal,
Mantronix,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fatback Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mandrill,
Alice Coltrane,
T. Rex,
the Slits,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Human League,
The Happenings,
Mission of Burma,
Shoche,
The Seeds,
Erasure,
Zapp,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.