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 Denmark and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lou Christie to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
D'Angelo,
Charles Mingus,
John Lydon,
Wolf Eyes,
Lalann,
Scan 7,
Glenn Branca,
Quadrant,
World's Most,
Traffic Nightmare,
Negative Approach,
Matthew Halsall,
Wire,
Johnny Clarke,
Henry Cow,
Fear,
Drive Like Jehu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eve St. Jones,
The Toasters,
Duran Duran,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Japan,
Electric Prunes,
Young Marble Giants,
Spandau Ballet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Sonics,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Misunderstood,
the Fania All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Q and Not U,
R.M.O.,
Crispy Ambulance,
This Heat,
The Grass Roots,
Mission of Burma,
John Coltrane,
Echospace,
The Smoke,
Joey Negro,
Fad Gadget,
Moebius,
Gabor Szabo,
The Standells,
Blossom Toes,
The Pretty Things,
Sam Rivers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
John Foxx,
Slick Rick,
Interpol,
Malaria!,
the Slits,
Aloha Tigers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.