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 East Timor and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron 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 The Toasters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
June of 44,
Gang Starr,
Bronski Beat,
Arab on Radar,
Mission of Burma,
X-101,
Das Ding,
Depeche Mode,
X-102,
The Star Department,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Main Source,
Y Pants,
LL Cool J,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
R.M.O.,
Tommy Roe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kenny Larkin,
James White and The Blacks,
Donald Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
Terry Callier,
The Slackers,
Aswad,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Christie,
Nils Olav,
Chrome,
Black Bananas,
Crispian St. Peters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Darondo,
Black Moon,
Easy Going,
Theoretical Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
Tom Boy,
The Busters,
La Düsseldorf,
Basic Channel,
The Blues Magoos,
Leonard Cohen,
Matthew Halsall,
The Birthday Party,
Marvin Gaye,
Supertramp,
Eve St. Jones,
Animal Collective,
The Golliwogs,
One Last Wish,
Iggy Pop,
Fela Kuti,
Neil Young,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Slick Rick,
The Count Five,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.