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 Philippines and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Swell Maps to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Delta 5,
Nico,
Con Funk Shun,
Grey Daturas,
Fela Kuti,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Music Machine,
June Days,
Kenny Larkin,
Sonic Youth,
The Slackers,
The Martian,
New York Dolls,
The Angels of Light,
Leonard Cohen,
The Durutti Column,
Intrusion,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Y Pants,
Slick Rick,
Mars,
Marmalade,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Circle Jerks,
John Lydon,
The Divine Comedy,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Piero Umiliani,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric Dolphy,
Lindisfarne,
Camouflage,
Darondo,
Goldenarms,
The Red Krayola,
Gang Green,
Crooked Eye,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scrapy,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fall,
Animal Collective,
Neu!,
Heaven 17,
Jerry Gold Smith,
D'Angelo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Christie,
Guru Guru,
Grauzone,
Neil Young,
Nas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Aswad,
Tears for Fears,
Siglo XX,
Davy DMX,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.