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 St Lucia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Girls At Our Best! to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Khruangbin,
AZ,
Sex Pistols,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scan 7,
The Neon Judgement,
Yellowson,
Angry Samoans,
The Dirtbombs,
Vladislav Delay,
Scientists,
Hardrive,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Blake Baxter,
The Fire Engines,
Brick,
The United States of America,
Scott Walker,
Fugazi,
Dawn Penn,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stereo Dub,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Offenders,
Basic Channel,
Motorama,
Make Up,
Michelle Simonal,
John Holt,
LL Cool J,
Mission of Burma,
The Music Machine,
Radio Birdman,
Half Japanese,
UT,
Mad Mike,
Amon Düül II,
Josef K,
The Fortunes,
X-102,
Franke,
Peter & Gordon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joey Negro,
Goldenarms,
Robert Görl,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Man Parrish,
Shuggie Otis,
Yaz,
Smog,
China Crisis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Names,
Kurtis Blow,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lyres,
Babytalk,
Alice Coltrane,
Niagra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.