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 Brunei and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Mr. Review to the rap 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls 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?
Robert Hood,
Joensuu 1685,
Ultra Naté,
T. Rex,
Whodini,
These Immortal Souls,
Subhumans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Oneida,
Pantaleimon,
Steve Hackett,
The Walker Brothers,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Teasers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Graham Central Station,
Second Layer,
Frankie Knuckles,
One Last Wish,
Magma,
The United States of America,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Durutti Column,
Khruangbin,
Banda Bassotti,
Theoretical Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Maleditus Sound,
The Angels of Light,
The Fortunes,
Aswad,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Flash Fearless,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Toasters,
Brass Construction,
Circle Jerks,
Oblivians,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sonics,
Reagan Youth,
Supertramp,
Crispian St. Peters,
Donald Byrd,
The Fuzztones,
The Slackers,
The Searchers,
Mars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sun City Girls,
Zapp,
X-Ray Spex,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Anakelly,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Quantec,
Cybotron,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.