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 United States and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Nas,
Moss Icon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dawn Penn,
Bootsy Collins,
Jacques Brel,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fatback Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tim Buckley,
John Lydon,
The Offenders,
Guru Guru,
Stiv Bators,
Model 500,
Black Sheep,
Malaria!,
Terry Callier,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Organ,
Urselle,
Barclay James Harvest,
Smog,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Moon,
Sällskapet,
B.T. Express,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Moody Blues,
Scion,
Jawbox,
John Cale,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Golliwogs,
Barrington Levy,
Motorama,
Junior Murvin,
Scientists,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marc Almond,
Royal Trux,
Aaron Thompson,
Marine Girls,
China Crisis,
Cluster,
Wings,
David Bowie,
EPMD,
The Invisible,
Ludus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Blancmange,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gabor Szabo,
Accadde A,
Barbara Tucker,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mad Mike,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Magazine,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.