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 Botswana and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the disco 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Byron Stingily,
Eli Mardock,
Drexciya,
Spandau Ballet,
Von Mondo,
Gang Green,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mr. Review,
Dead Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Red Krayola,
Hardrive,
Agitation Free,
Faraquet,
These Immortal Souls,
Subhumans,
Juan Atkins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pantytec,
World's Most,
JFA,
Sugar Minott,
The Mummies,
Kevin Saunderson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultimate Spinach,
Outsiders,
Jandek,
Khruangbin,
Kerrie Biddell,
T. Rex,
Brick,
Big Daddy Kane,
Amon Düül,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deakin,
The Gap Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Germs,
X-Ray Spex,
China Crisis,
B.T. Express,
In Retrospect,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Victims,
Black Flag,
The Blackbyrds,
Archie Shepp,
Ten City,
Babytalk,
Qualms,
Fugazi,
Gang Starr,
John Coltrane,
Eric Copeland,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.