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 Czech Republic and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 Davy DMX to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Aural Exciters,
Subhumans,
Bill Wells,
Darondo,
Roxette,
Arthur Verocai,
D'Angelo,
Byron Stingily,
Siglo XX,
Monks,
John Coltrane,
Outsiders,
Audionom,
Silicon Teens,
Basic Channel,
Minny Pops,
Reuben Wilson,
Delta 5,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mars,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scratch Acid,
T.S.O.L.,
The Mojo Men,
Camouflage,
Unrelated Segments,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Invisible,
Country Joe & The Fish,
In Retrospect,
The Searchers,
Vainqueur,
Roxy Music,
Trumans Water,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yusef Lateef,
The Music Machine,
Erykah Badu,
Leonard Cohen,
Duran Duran,
The Blackbyrds,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Albert Ayler,
Glenn Branca,
Alison Limerick,
Youth Brigade,
Brick,
The Trojans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cymande,
The Saints,
Metal Thangz,
Infiniti,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camberwell Now,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Avey Tare,
Ultra Naté,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.