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 Gabon and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Robert Palmer 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 Drexciya to the crunk 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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Agent Orange,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crooked Eye,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Delta 5,
Cheater Slicks,
Funkadelic,
Lyres,
Barclay James Harvest,
La Düsseldorf,
Matthew Halsall,
Don Cherry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kenny Larkin,
Eden Ahbez,
Faust,
Chris & Cosey,
Crime,
Glenn Branca,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brand Nubian,
DJ Style,
Joy Division,
Dual Sessions,
Angry Samoans,
Piero Umiliani,
Metal Thangz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pussy Galore,
PIL,
Deakin,
UT,
The Move,
Ronnie Foster,
Scan 7,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Siglo XX,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mandrill,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soft Machine,
Grauzone,
The Selecter,
Can,
Sixth Finger,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick May,
Erasure,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Barracudas,
The Five Americans,
Patti Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Red Krayola,
Judy Mowatt,
Ludus,
Khruangbin,
Lalann,
Slick Rick,
Lower 48,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.