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 Papua New Guinea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Funky Four + One,
Quantec,
Nico,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fluxion,
Pussy Galore,
Talk Talk,
Eric Dolphy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Essential Logic,
Wire,
The Cure,
B.T. Express,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Amon Düül II,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
Don Cherry,
Severed Heads,
Eve St. Jones,
X-101,
the Fania All-Stars,
Parry Music,
E-Dancer,
The Gladiators,
Soulsonic Force,
Drexciya,
Surgeon,
Young Marble Giants,
X-Ray Spex,
UT,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soft Machine,
Bob Dylan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yaz,
Todd Terry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
David Bowie,
Porter Ricks,
Warsaw,
Television Personalities,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Animal Collective,
K-Klass,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rufus Thomas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Symarip,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ralphi Rosario,
MC5,
Davy DMX,
Tres Demented,
Zero Boys,
The New Christs,
The Monochrome Set,
Khruangbin,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.