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 Afghanistan and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Names to the jazz 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
The Cramps,
Man Eating Sloth,
Judy Mowatt,
Infiniti,
Brass Construction,
Fela Kuti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Pussy Galore,
Joe Smooth,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bluetip,
Warren Ellis,
Mandrill,
The Trojans,
Sonic Youth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Smog,
June of 44,
Fat Boys,
The Invisible,
Mars,
Ituana,
Avey Tare,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fad Gadget,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Byron Stingily,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Aural Exciters,
Quantec,
The Move,
Wolf Eyes,
Camberwell Now,
Gong,
X-102,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brand Nubian,
Stetsasonic,
The Wake,
Soul II Soul,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Gun Club,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric Copeland,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ludus,
DJ Sneak,
Mary Jane Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marcia Griffiths,
Archie Shepp,
Brick,
Icehouse,
Pole,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Slits,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.