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 Namibia and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Judy Mowatt to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Sex Pistols,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Albert Ayler,
Japan,
Trumans Water,
Minor Threat,
Bang On A Can,
Terrestrial Tones,
Metal Thangz,
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roxy Music,
New Age Steppers,
Underground Resistance,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Magazine,
Dennis Brown,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bill Wells,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Freddie Wadling,
Buzzcocks,
Groovy Waters,
Kayak,
The Knickerbockers,
Intrusion,
Model 500,
A Certain Ratio,
Sun City Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
DJ Sneak,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pantaleimon,
Minnie Riperton,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Siglo XX,
Panda Bear,
Lalann,
Boredoms,
Quando Quango,
Dark Day,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Wake,
The Shadows of Knight,
Charles Mingus,
Fear,
the Bar-Kays,
Eve St. Jones,
Franke,
Donny Hathaway,
Moss Icon,
Man Parrish,
Symarip,
Pagans,
Prince Buster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cure,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Derrick May,
Half Japanese,
Funky Four + One,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.