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 France and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron 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 Alice Coltrane to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Todd Rundgren,
Amon Düül,
Sonny Sharrock,
Supertramp,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sandy B,
Pussy Galore,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Wake,
Stereo Dub,
Gastr Del Sol,
Altered Images,
Nik Kershaw,
Rakim,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Piero Umiliani,
Massinfluence,
Isaac Hayes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Audionom,
Fat Boys,
Erasure,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Arab on Radar,
Organ,
The Gap Band,
Television,
Amazonics,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Five Americans,
Bad Manners,
Rufus Thomas,
Banda Bassotti,
The Slackers,
Alton Ellis,
The Victims,
Moby Grape,
Albert Ayler,
Darondo,
The Index,
Stetsasonic,
Crispian St. Peters,
Shoche,
Marine Girls,
Camberwell Now,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Yaz,
cv313,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Happenings,
Carl Craig,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultra Naté,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Monks,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.