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 Zimbabwe and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Electric Prunes,
Roxy Music,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dark Day,
Y Pants,
Gerry Rafferty,
D'Angelo,
Ossler,
Fela Kuti,
Aloha Tigers,
PIL,
Quantec,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Adolescents,
Thompson Twins,
the Association,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Slackers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ornette Coleman,
The Kinks,
Can,
Cybotron,
Second Layer,
R.M.O.,
AZ,
Arab on Radar,
Harpers Bizarre,
Japan,
Infiniti,
Kayak,
Deepchord,
Lalo Schifrin,
Connie Case,
Alison Limerick,
Model 500,
A Certain Ratio,
Mo-Dettes,
Q65,
Aswad,
T.S.O.L.,
Sugar Minott,
KRS-One,
Leonard Cohen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Guru Guru,
Nico,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Saints,
Metal Thangz,
Pussy Galore,
Charles Mingus,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül II,
Aaron Thompson,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.