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 Turkey and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jawbox to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Matthew Halsall,
Chrome,
Eddi Front,
Porter Ricks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harpers Bizarre,
Goldenarms,
Black Pus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fat Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rod Modell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kool Moe Dee,
CMW,
Severed Heads,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rites of Spring,
Kevin Saunderson,
In Retrospect,
Bill Wells,
The Vogues,
The Remains,
The Electric Prunes,
Siglo XX,
Flash Fearless,
Roger Hodgson,
Amon Düül,
Organ,
The Trojans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eric Copeland,
Hasil Adkins,
Patti Smith,
Half Japanese,
Blancmange,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lakeside,
The Zeros,
June Days,
David Bowie,
Roxette,
Roy Ayers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Echospace,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
U.S. Maple,
Barclay James Harvest,
Interpol,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jacques Brel,
New York Dolls,
Lower 48,
Funky Four + One,
The Move,
The Cowsills,
These Immortal Souls,
Lindisfarne,
Surgeon,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.