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 Portugal and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 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 Black Bananas to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
AZ,
Magma,
Black Bananas,
Average White Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cymande,
Danielle Patucci,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Buckinghams,
The Invisible,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joensuu 1685,
The Velvet Underground,
Mission of Burma,
Swans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Buzzcocks,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Machine,
Iggy Pop,
Bang On A Can,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Leaves,
PIL,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Quantec,
The Slackers,
One Last Wish,
Andrew Hill,
Arab on Radar,
Albert Ayler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Magazine,
Metal Thangz,
Blancmange,
Pylon,
the Swans,
Darondo,
Chris Corsano,
The Grass Roots,
The Stooges,
The Associates,
Yaz,
Circle Jerks,
Deadbeat,
The Vogues,
Royal Trux,
Robert Hood,
Liliput,
Brand Nubian,
Harry Pussy,
The J.B.'s,
Fear,
Unrelated Segments,
Rapeman,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sun City Girls,
Nico,
Wally Richardson,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.