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 Belarus and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Knickerbockers to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bauhaus,
Joy Division,
Fatback Band,
Wolf Eyes,
The Kinks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Davy DMX,
Tears for Fears,
Rapeman,
Lou Christie,
Camouflage,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Monks,
Section 25,
The Five Americans,
The Smiths,
Bad Manners,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mad Mike,
Rotary Connection,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soft Machine,
Thompson Twins,
The Sonics,
Aloha Tigers,
Banda Bassotti,
B.T. Express,
Young Marble Giants,
Kayak,
Kurtis Blow,
Trumans Water,
Marmalade,
Lindisfarne,
Funkadelic,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
New York Dolls,
Guru Guru,
Agitation Free,
Chris & Cosey,
Lucky Dragons,
Newcleus,
The Evens,
Fort Wilson Riot,
One Last Wish,
Organ,
Japan,
Joe Finger,
E-Dancer,
Ornette Coleman,
Erasure,
Grauzone,
Gang Starr,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Johnny Clarke,
Moss Icon,
Reagan Youth,
Nils Olav,
Deadbeat,
Oblivians,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.