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 Rwanda and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 L. Decosne to the crunk 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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Nik Kershaw,
Prince Buster,
Amon Düül,
Arthur Verocai,
The Kinks,
The Sonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Mad Mike,
La Düsseldorf,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kaleidoscope,
Skriet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harry Pussy,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Saccharine Trust,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Anthony Braxton,
Cameo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Moody Blues,
Aural Exciters,
Reuben Wilson,
Barrington Levy,
Dave Gahan,
Hoover,
Angry Samoans,
The Searchers,
Amazonics,
Flipper,
Junior Murvin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The New Christs,
The Slits,
Q65,
Porter Ricks,
Symarip,
Bobby Sherman,
The Young Rascals,
Organ,
Gang Gang Dance,
Make Up,
The Skatalites,
The Busters,
Stiv Bators,
Electric Prunes,
Ronnie Foster,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Stooges,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Flamin' Groovies,
FM Einheit,
Magma,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Residents,
The Fuzztones,
Carl Craig,
The Cowsills,
Camberwell Now,
Chris & Cosey,
The Remains,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.