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 Afghanistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mission of Burma to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Camberwell Now,
The Red Krayola,
Desert Stars,
Trumans Water,
John Foxx,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Todd Rundgren,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Alton Ellis,
Quantec,
Hasil Adkins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Technova,
the Germs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fugazi,
The Mummies,
Gang Green,
Theoretical Girls,
10cc,
The Moody Blues,
X-102,
Patti Smith,
Steve Hackett,
Barrington Levy,
The Star Department,
Howard Jones,
Ken Boothe,
Lakeside,
Neil Young,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Associates,
Aaron Thompson,
Barry Ungar,
Nas,
Hoover,
Scrapy,
June of 44,
Underground Resistance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pierre Henry,
Animal Collective,
Susan Cadogan,
Oblivians,
The Gladiators,
Circle Jerks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Trojans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pantaleimon,
La Düsseldorf,
Metal Thangz,
World's Most,
The Offenders,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nick Fraelich,
Crash Course in Science,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sam Rivers,
Supertramp,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.