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 Congo and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Drive Like Jehu to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Lee Hazlewood,
Michelle Simonal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Happenings,
Schoolly D,
Tom Boy,
The Vogues,
48th St. Collective,
Minutemen,
The Monochrome Set,
Sex Pistols,
These Immortal Souls,
The Barracudas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gastr Del Sol,
Organ,
Shoche,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ultra Naté,
Das Ding,
Connie Case,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Swell Maps,
Absolute Body Control,
Angry Samoans,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rapeman,
Chris & Cosey,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Selecter,
Desert Stars,
One Last Wish,
Bang On A Can,
Pantytec,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Niagra,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fugs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Evens,
The Pop Group,
Gil Scott Heron,
Popol Vuh,
The Red Krayola,
Delta 5,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric Dolphy,
Grey Daturas,
Kayak,
Country Teasers,
Ronnie Foster,
Maleditus Sound,
The Music Machine,
The Smiths,
Outsiders,
The Birthday Party,
Talk Talk,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.