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 Ukraine and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes 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 The Saints to the grunge 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Brick,
Patti Smith,
Groovy Waters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Youth Brigade,
Terry Callier,
Joy Division,
Black Sheep,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kenny Larkin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Dave Clark Five,
Freddie Wadling,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Isaac Hayes,
Eli Mardock,
Chris Corsano,
The Index,
Motorama,
X-Ray Spex,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
KRS-One,
The Modern Lovers,
Yaz,
Adolescents,
Juan Atkins,
The Associates,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deepchord,
Talk Talk,
Glambeats Corp.,
Spoonie Gee,
Warsaw,
Loose Ends,
PIL,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash,
Funky Four + One,
Byron Stingily,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tomorrow,
Avey Tare,
Maleditus Sound,
Chris & Cosey,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Khruangbin,
Ultra Naté,
Qualms,
Young Marble Giants,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
John Lydon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gabor Szabo,
The Angels of Light,
Mad Mike,
Rufus Thomas,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radio Birdman,
June Days,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.