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 Sudan and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Bill Near to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
New York Dolls,
Harry Pussy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fat Boys,
Nils Olav,
Mission of Burma,
Kerri Chandler,
The Walker Brothers,
Hashim,
Juan Atkins,
Warren Ellis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bauhaus,
The Toasters,
Kevin Saunderson,
La Düsseldorf,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Young Rascals,
Amon Düül,
The Gun Club,
The Red Krayola,
Letta Mbulu,
Crispy Ambulance,
Severed Heads,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Andrew Hill,
New Age Steppers,
Isaac Hayes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Womack,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camberwell Now,
The Beau Brummels,
The Dead C,
The Martian,
MDC,
Gang of Four,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
June of 44,
Quando Quango,
Das Ding,
The Dave Clark Five,
Main Source,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
The Electric Prunes,
the Sonics,
David Bowie,
The Misunderstood,
Average White Band,
Ronan,
Second Layer,
The Fire Engines,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Freddie Wadling,
Tommy Roe,
Sight & Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Idris Muhammad,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.