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 Botswana and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum 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 Radiopuhelimet to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
Andrew Hill,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hashim,
Bill Near,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barry Ungar,
the Sonics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Infiniti,
The Vogues,
Theoretical Girls,
Delta 5,
Spoonie Gee,
Rod Modell,
the Association,
Loose Ends,
The Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
The United States of America,
The Mummies,
Boz Scaggs,
The Stooges,
Goldenarms,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Moon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Alice Coltrane,
The Doors,
Don Cherry,
June of 44,
a-ha,
Deepchord,
Faust,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Absolute Body Control,
The Mojo Men,
R.M.O.,
Country Teasers,
Tom Boy,
Brand Nubian,
Ituana,
The Tremeloes,
Arcadia,
MDC,
The Smiths,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Leonard Cohen,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Young Rascals,
Ponytail,
Suicide,
Kool Moe Dee,
Clear Light,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cure,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hardrive,
L. Decosne,
Easy Going,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.