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 Senegal and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Victims to the punk 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joensuu 1685,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jerry's Kids,
The Skatalites,
Procol Harum,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Toni Rubio,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Slave,
Reuben Wilson,
Alphaville,
Stetsasonic,
Rapeman,
The Misunderstood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unwound,
Anakelly,
Donald Byrd,
Sandy B,
Zapp,
Isaac Hayes,
The Beau Brummels,
Inner City,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Sherman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Blossom Toes,
Wally Richardson,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pulsallama,
The Buckinghams,
Scion,
Archie Shepp,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Association,
Scan 7,
Amazonics,
Deepchord,
Hardrive,
Ponytail,
Skarface,
The Doors,
Boredoms,
Radiohead,
Banda Bassotti,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ituana,
Eric Dolphy,
Nick Fraelich,
Henry Cow,
Brick,
Funky Four + One,
The Knickerbockers,
Lou Reed,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.