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 Israel and from Lagos.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Cluster,
Basic Channel,
John Lydon,
Infiniti,
Deepchord,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lungfish,
H. Thieme,
Mandrill,
Cecil Taylor,
Q65,
T.S.O.L.,
The Blues Magoos,
Pere Ubu,
Panda Bear,
Jimmy McGriff,
Q and Not U,
a-ha,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Sound,
the Swans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gabor Szabo,
Ludus,
Letta Mbulu,
The Doors,
Shoche,
Laurel Aitken,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Procol Harum,
Marmalade,
Jandek,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Slits,
OOIOO,
The Fuzztones,
Joy Division,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Camberwell Now,
The Real Kids,
Scan 7,
Intrusion,
Kurtis Blow,
Japan,
Terry Callier,
Roxette,
Boredoms,
The Techniques,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Smiths,
Gong,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Last Poets,
A Certain Ratio,
Altered Images,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brand Nubian,
Rotary Connection,
Cheater Slicks,
Skriet,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.