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 Egypt and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro 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 Echospace to the dance 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Radio Birdman,
Carl Craig,
Barclay James Harvest,
Little Man,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Swans,
The Litter,
The Wake,
Faust,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lou Reed,
Glenn Branca,
Aaron Thompson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cymande,
Hardrive,
Thee Headcoats,
Scan 7,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Michelle Simonal,
Gastr Del Sol,
Duran Duran,
Kevin Saunderson,
Flipper,
Hashim,
Neu!,
Kaleidoscope,
Inner City,
the Normal,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Aswad,
Zapp,
Malaria!,
Amazonics,
Symarip,
Nation of Ulysses,
Josef K,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Warsaw,
Jacques Brel,
Tommy Roe,
Jeff Mills,
The Star Department,
Hasil Adkins,
Quadrant,
The Red Krayola,
R.M.O.,
Flash Fearless,
Neil Young,
Index,
Sound Behaviour,
The Real Kids,
Mo-Dettes,
Donny Hathaway,
Harry Pussy,
The Cowsills,
The American Breed,
Blancmange,
Throbbing Gristle,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.