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 Georgia and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 Mr. Review to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Selecter,
The Kinks,
Young Marble Giants,
Newcleus,
Tubeway Army,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Seeds,
Moss Icon,
Funkadelic,
the Swans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang of Four,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke,
Mark Hollis,
X-102,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pierre Henry,
Sonic Youth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Toasters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jacob Miller,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Grass Roots,
Andrew Hill,
The Fire Engines,
The Misunderstood,
Basic Channel,
Hardrive,
Minutemen,
Idris Muhammad,
Soft Machine,
Oneida,
The Residents,
The Fugs,
Angry Samoans,
Bang On A Can,
Supertramp,
Derrick Morgan,
Steve Hackett,
New York Dolls,
Roxy Music,
John Coltrane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Pop Group,
Ronan,
The Move,
Absolute Body Control,
Rakim,
Das Ding,
DNA,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sex Pistols,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.