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 Vanuatu and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Mexico City and Copenhagen.
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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Joy Division to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Andrew Hill,
Kerri Chandler,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Monks,
The Stooges,
The Red Krayola,
Piero Umiliani,
The Blues Magoos,
Heaven 17,
Sixth Finger,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Names,
Hasil Adkins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Newcleus,
Shuggie Otis,
Q and Not U,
Television Personalities,
Pere Ubu,
Inner City,
Franke,
The Sound,
Barry Ungar,
Bad Manners,
Neil Young,
Boredoms,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Human League,
Robert Wyatt,
the Sonics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wolf Eyes,
Brothers Johnson,
Absolute Body Control,
Shoche,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Monolake,
Matthew Halsall,
Ken Boothe,
Theoretical Girls,
Little Man,
the Slits,
EPMD,
Au Pairs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
X-101,
Steve Hackett,
X-102,
Mandrill,
The Gap Band,
Whodini,
Amazonics,
Maleditus Sound,
The Kinks,
Jacques Brel,
Angry Samoans,
Altered Images,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.