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 Costa Rica and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lalo Schifrin to the funk 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Joyce Sims,
The Five Americans,
Jeff Mills,
The Pretty Things,
Soulsonic Force,
Wally Richardson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cameo,
The Blues Magoos,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Idris Muhammad,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
In Retrospect,
Minny Pops,
Slave,
The Vogues,
The Smiths,
Albert Ayler,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lyres,
Amazonics,
DJ Sneak,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Divine Comedy,
Reagan Youth,
Joe Smooth,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Pus,
Harry Pussy,
Patti Smith,
Motorama,
Shoche,
Radiopuhelimet,
David Axelrod,
Yaz,
Essential Logic,
L. Decosne,
The Dirtbombs,
Infiniti,
The Sound,
Moss Icon,
One Last Wish,
Drexciya,
The Smoke,
Parry Music,
Bootsy Collins,
Magma,
Matthew Halsall,
Amon Düül II,
The Mojo Men,
Howard Jones,
Audionom,
Boz Scaggs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Litter,
The Invisible,
Echospace,
Angry Samoans,
June of 44,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.