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 Canada and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jacques Brel to the jazz 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha 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?
Los Fastidios,
The Smiths,
Roxette,
John Lydon,
Fat Boys,
Moss Icon,
UT,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Pus,
Theoretical Girls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scrapy,
Q and Not U,
Darondo,
Gichy Dan,
48th St. Collective,
The Pop Group,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Holt,
Sun Ra,
Agitation Free,
Lakeside,
Traffic Nightmare,
Roxy Music,
Basic Channel,
the Germs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Velvet Underground,
Zero Boys,
The Gladiators,
Sun City Girls,
Sparks,
Gang Starr,
La Düsseldorf,
Slave,
The Monochrome Set,
Hardrive,
Sight & Sound,
Glenn Branca,
The Seeds,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Todd Terry,
The Martian,
Young Marble Giants,
Isaac Hayes,
Minutemen,
Letta Mbulu,
Groovy Waters,
10cc,
Sugar Minott,
Toni Rubio,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Invisible,
Davy DMX,
Lalann,
Surgeon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Leonard Cohen,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.