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 Venezuela and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Minutemen to the techno 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hardrive,
Isaac Hayes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Harmonia,
Unrelated Segments,
Maleditus Sound,
Aural Exciters,
The Stooges,
Popol Vuh,
The Last Poets,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Albert Ayler,
Brand Nubian,
LL Cool J,
Grauzone,
Glenn Branca,
The Index,
Mary Jane Girls,
Todd Terry,
Jerry's Kids,
Agitation Free,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Lydon,
Stetsasonic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eden Ahbez,
Aaron Thompson,
CMW,
Scott Walker,
Joy Division,
Roy Ayers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Stockholm Monsters,
Babytalk,
Index,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scientists,
Michelle Simonal,
The Star Department,
The Move,
John Coltrane,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Kas Product,
H. Thieme,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
Main Source,
Harpers Bizarre,
Byron Stingily,
U.S. Maple,
Roxy Music,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Vogues,
Stereo Dub,
The Buckinghams,
The Kinks,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.