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 Grenada and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Albert Ayler to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Don Cherry,
Funkadelic,
Second Layer,
John Lydon,
New Order,
Byron Stingily,
Absolute Body Control,
Alton Ellis,
Glenn Branca,
JFA,
the Bar-Kays,
Blancmange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pierre Henry,
Sex Pistols,
Magma,
Hardrive,
The Happenings,
Procol Harum,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Deakin,
Al Stewart,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sun City Girls,
Kenny Larkin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mo-Dettes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joensuu 1685,
Saccharine Trust,
Alphaville,
Ken Boothe,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Monks,
Bauhaus,
The Slackers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nirvana,
Moebius,
Quadrant,
Chris & Cosey,
Juan Atkins,
Gang Starr,
Tim Buckley,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lungfish,
Deepchord,
Malaria!,
Young Marble Giants,
The Beau Brummels,
Electric Prunes,
Soft Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobby Byrd,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wolf Eyes,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.