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 South Africa and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin 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 Piero Umiliani to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Electric Prunes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
The Music Machine,
The Count Five,
The Golliwogs,
Deepchord,
Altered Images,
Harpers Bizarre,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Gladiators,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bush Tetras,
Spandau Ballet,
Marvin Gaye,
Sparks,
Suicide,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Angels of Light,
Maleditus Sound,
Section 25,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roy Ayers,
Easy Going,
The Kinks,
ABBA,
Animal Collective,
Tropical Tobacco,
a-ha,
Lucky Dragons,
Wasted Youth,
Pagans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
cv313,
The Gap Band,
Fatback Band,
The Cure,
Magazine,
Neil Young,
Pantytec,
Ronan,
Qualms,
James White and The Blacks,
Isaac Hayes,
the Bar-Kays,
Matthew Halsall,
Slave,
Oneida,
The Selecter,
Crime,
Marine Girls,
Parry Music,
The Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sight & Sound,
In Retrospect,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bang On A Can,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.