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 Azerbaijan and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Curtis Mayfield 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Subhumans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Althea and Donna,
Eli Mardock,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jeru the Damaja,
Unrelated Segments,
Barbara Tucker,
Amon Düül II,
D'Angelo,
Pussy Galore,
Harmonia,
Bob Dylan,
L. Decosne,
Crime,
Massinfluence,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sandy B,
Lightning Bolt,
Parry Music,
The Mummies,
Funkadelic,
Lungfish,
Maleditus Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Animal Collective,
Jacques Brel,
F. McDonald,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Associates,
Radiopuhelimet,
T.S.O.L.,
Magma,
E-Dancer,
Morten Harket,
Graham Central Station,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Doobie Brothers,
Au Pairs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Swans,
Agent Orange,
Alice Coltrane,
Chris & Cosey,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Iggy Pop,
China Crisis,
The Moleskins,
Boz Scaggs,
Barry Ungar,
Rites of Spring,
Stiv Bators,
Anthony Braxton,
Urselle,
Tubeway Army,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.