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 Tuvalu and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Con Funk Shun to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Nico,
Ice-T,
Lower 48,
Minny Pops,
Sixth Finger,
Black Bananas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Monks,
the Swans,
Los Fastidios,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mantronix,
Avey Tare,
The Pretty Things,
Excepter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Saccharine Trust,
Thompson Twins,
Nirvana,
LL Cool J,
The Golliwogs,
Niagra,
The Cowsills,
Half Japanese,
Intrusion,
Franke,
The Residents,
Bush Tetras,
the Bar-Kays,
D'Angelo,
The Dead C,
Ponytail,
Television,
The Leaves,
Wolf Eyes,
Barrington Levy,
The Standells,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nik Kershaw,
Stockholm Monsters,
Quantec,
Jacques Brel,
Agent Orange,
E-Dancer,
Radiohead,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Babytalk,
Bill Wells,
The Doors,
Fugazi,
Laurel Aitken,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joyce Sims,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Man Parrish,
Leonard Cohen,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The New Christs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.