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 Malaysia and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ 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 Arthur Verocai to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kaleidoscope,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Names,
John Foxx,
Boredoms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Doors,
Lungfish,
48th St. Collective,
The Pop Group,
Rosa Yemen,
Index,
Gang Gang Dance,
Accadde A,
Das Ding,
Moebius,
Sun Ra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
JFA,
Bobby Sherman,
Chris & Cosey,
Severed Heads,
This Heat,
Bobby Byrd,
Buzzcocks,
James White and The Blacks,
Trumans Water,
Soft Machine,
Lightning Bolt,
Amon Düül,
Monks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Metal Thangz,
Subhumans,
Aural Exciters,
Archie Shepp,
Todd Terry,
Charles Mingus,
Can,
Gang Green,
Bauhaus,
Skarface,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mantronix,
Tommy Roe,
Loose Ends,
Mad Mike,
Bluetip,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fortunes,
Malaria!,
The American Breed,
Con Funk Shun,
New Age Steppers,
The Gories,
L. Decosne,
Junior Murvin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Parry Music,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.