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 New Zealand and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba 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 Pharoah Sanders to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Magazine,
Animal Collective,
OOIOO,
Connie Case,
David McCallum,
Mark Hollis,
Subhumans,
The Victims,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Susan Cadogan,
Malaria!,
ABC,
Sixth Finger,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The American Breed,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Birthday Party,
Accadde A,
Trumans Water,
Marine Girls,
The Gun Club,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mummies,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ken Boothe,
JFA,
Sound Behaviour,
Eli Mardock,
Liliput,
Television,
Mo-Dettes,
Brick,
The J.B.'s,
Rufus Thomas,
Sarah Menescal,
The Dead C,
Rites of Spring,
The Dave Clark Five,
Amon Düül,
New Age Steppers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sight & Sound,
Country Joe & The Fish,
AZ,
The Moody Blues,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Agent Orange,
Ituana,
Donny Hathaway,
Moss Icon,
Talk Talk,
David Axelrod,
The Gap Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fire Engines,
The Invisible,
Black Sheep,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.