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 Tuvalu and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Scrapy,
June of 44,
Vladislav Delay,
Siglo XX,
Funkadelic,
Crash Course in Science,
Darondo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ice-T,
Basic Channel,
The Fortunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Slackers,
Neu!,
Fugazi,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eurythmics,
The Seeds,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slits,
The Fall,
Johnny Clarke,
Tubeway Army,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rosa Yemen,
Hashim,
Surgeon,
Carl Craig,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Angry Samoans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scion,
a-ha,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yazoo,
The United States of America,
Absolute Body Control,
John Coltrane,
Quantec,
Eric B and Rakim,
Heaven 17,
Nick Fraelich,
The Invisible,
Lungfish,
Sun City Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rekid,
Frankie Knuckles,
Easy Going,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Names,
Urselle,
the Normal,
Sällskapet,
Bill Near,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Faust,
Minor Threat,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.