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 Switzerland and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Hardrive,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Flag,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scion,
Danielle Patucci,
Can,
Janne Schatter,
Monolake,
Barbara Tucker,
Interpol,
The Gories,
La Düsseldorf,
Tom Boy,
Lakeside,
Derrick May,
Underground Resistance,
Rufus Thomas,
The Offenders,
The Names,
Sam Rivers,
Man Eating Sloth,
FM Einheit,
Rites of Spring,
Maurizio,
Kenny Larkin,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ornette Coleman,
Smog,
The Techniques,
Niagra,
Ken Boothe,
The Litter,
Tubeway Army,
Michelle Simonal,
Alice Coltrane,
The Pretty Things,
Oblivians,
Brothers Johnson,
Brand Nubian,
The Slits,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deepchord,
Alphaville,
Grey Daturas,
Fugazi,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Carl Craig,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sarah Menescal,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
Idris Muhammad,
Jerry's Kids,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Remains,
The Birthday Party,
Quantec,
Japan,
Guru Guru,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.