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 Colombia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Maleditus Sound to the funk 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Swell Maps,
Panda Bear,
Soulsonic Force,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Holt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hashim,
Rekid,
Model 500,
Cecil Taylor,
Royal Trux,
ABC,
Isaac Hayes,
The Stooges,
Radiohead,
John Cale,
The United States of America,
Ossler,
Nirvana,
Wolf Eyes,
Eric Dolphy,
Soft Machine,
Aural Exciters,
Dennis Brown,
The Selecter,
Ponytail,
Rosa Yemen,
Roy Ayers,
Simply Red,
B.T. Express,
Interpol,
Charles Mingus,
The Dirtbombs,
Siglo XX,
Accadde A,
Minor Threat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lindisfarne,
Popol Vuh,
Fat Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yellowson,
Magazine,
The Mummies,
Quadrant,
Gang Green,
The Buckinghams,
Joe Smooth,
Qualms,
Black Flag,
Eden Ahbez,
Flipper,
The Durutti Column,
Rakim,
Sonny Sharrock,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blake Baxter,
Kayak,
Robert Görl,
Jawbox,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.