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 Guinea and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 Throbbing Gristle 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
The Red Krayola,
the Association,
Godley & Creme,
Fear,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Heaven 17,
The Doobie Brothers,
Robert Wyatt,
Charles Mingus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fat Boys,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bootsy Collins,
The Gap Band,
Interpol,
OOIOO,
Mars,
The Seeds,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Max Romeo,
Franke,
the Human League,
Wings,
Eden Ahbez,
Black Flag,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jawbox,
X-101,
Animal Collective,
Delon & Dalcan,
Peter and Kerry,
Davy DMX,
Lalann,
Ice-T,
Model 500,
Gil Scott Heron,
Trumans Water,
Marmalade,
The Trojans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Sonics,
Pantaleimon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Matthew Bourne,
Nas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Index,
cv313,
The Slackers,
China Crisis,
LL Cool J,
Bobby Womack,
Sparks,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.