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 Maldives and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cowsills to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Cluster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barbara Tucker,
Don Cherry,
Drexciya,
Barclay James Harvest,
Connie Case,
The Victims,
The Detroit Cobras,
Technova,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Royal Trux,
Fugazi,
Alphaville,
The Pop Group,
Average White Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Byrd,
Neu!,
8 Eyed Spy,
kango's stein massive,
Roxette,
Gabor Szabo,
The Remains,
Easy Going,
Tim Buckley,
The Skatalites,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Carl Craig,
Yaz,
Fluxion,
Lou Christie,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chris Corsano,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Harpers Bizarre,
Susan Cadogan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scientists,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Smiths,
Jawbox,
Khruangbin,
Rakim,
Faraquet,
One Last Wish,
Half Japanese,
Excepter,
Matthew Halsall,
Loose Ends,
Warsaw,
The Moleskins,
Andrew Hill,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Liliput,
Pylon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.