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 Montenegro and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Girls At Our Best! to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bad Manners,
Y Pants,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Pus,
Gang of Four,
Skriet,
The Remains,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
KRS-One,
Brass Construction,
The Neon Judgement,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jawbox,
Barclay James Harvest,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Zapp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Reagan Youth,
Pantytec,
Amon Düül II,
Eve St. Jones,
Tears for Fears,
The Fortunes,
Bauhaus,
Scion,
The Searchers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hashim,
The Five Americans,
June of 44,
Technova,
Lebanon Hanover,
Siglo XX,
The Motions,
Carl Craig,
Barry Ungar,
CMW,
Susan Cadogan,
X-101,
Sister Nancy,
Pierre Henry,
Scratch Acid,
Lungfish,
Ohio Players,
Mandrill,
Minor Threat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Byrd,
Animal Collective,
Leonard Cohen,
Soft Machine,
The Mojo Men,
Easy Going,
Zero Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Sheep,
Cybotron,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo.
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.