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 Tajikistan and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 T. Rex to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pierre Henry,
Tres Demented,
David McCallum,
Todd Rundgren,
Eric B and Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Adolescents,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marmalade,
Duran Duran,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mary Jane Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Matthew Bourne,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Lydon,
Lungfish,
Camouflage,
The Wake,
Bang On A Can,
cv313,
Quadrant,
Lakeside,
Sarah Menescal,
Panda Bear,
Aural Exciters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jandek,
Dark Day,
Youth Brigade,
Mad Mike,
Brick,
Blossom Toes,
Cymande,
Loose Ends,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minutemen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bootsy Collins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dawn Penn,
FM Einheit,
Roy Ayers,
Joe Finger,
X-101,
Altered Images,
Fugazi,
The Saints,
Anthony Braxton,
Dave Gahan,
Terry Callier,
Severed Heads,
Roxette,
Lower 48,
The J.B.'s,
Glenn Branca,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Victims,
Quantec,
Ludus,
Echospace,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.