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 Russia and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb 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 Loose Ends to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Fatback Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Albert Ayler,
Robert Wyatt,
Bad Manners,
Television Personalities,
The Cramps,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soft Machine,
Barrington Levy,
Faraquet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ice-T,
Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tres Demented,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lucky Dragons,
OOIOO,
Lalann,
Roger Hodgson,
Lightning Bolt,
Underground Resistance,
H. Thieme,
Theoretical Girls,
Dawn Penn,
Organ,
Henry Cow,
Roy Ayers,
Piero Umiliani,
Eric Copeland,
Eli Mardock,
The Names,
The Walker Brothers,
Gerry Rafferty,
AZ,
Joy Division,
Mo-Dettes,
John Holt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacob Miller,
China Crisis,
The Fall,
Nik Kershaw,
Erykah Badu,
Boz Scaggs,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Basic Channel,
Audionom,
Shoche,
The Fugs,
Sugar Minott,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Martian,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Y Pants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Echospace,
In Retrospect,
DJ Sneak,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.