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 Egypt and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe 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 Sonic Youth to the funk 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scrapy,
Ultra Naté,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Albert Ayler,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dave Gahan,
Eric Dolphy,
the Normal,
Gang of Four,
Heaven 17,
Joensuu 1685,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Grass Roots,
Colin Newman,
Sarah Menescal,
Mad Mike,
Pierre Henry,
The Modern Lovers,
Aaron Thompson,
Deadbeat,
Model 500,
Brothers Johnson,
the Swans,
Gong,
Todd Terry,
Amon Düül II,
Nirvana,
Fat Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Moebius,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grauzone,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marmalade,
Deakin,
Thee Headcoats,
Yusef Lateef,
Shuggie Otis,
The Zeros,
Yellowson,
Monks,
Flash Fearless,
Lungfish,
Hoover,
Nas,
In Retrospect,
Sugar Minott,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wolf Eyes,
Iggy Pop,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Motorama,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Invisible,
The Busters,
Stetsasonic,
Tubeway Army,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Bananas,
Juan Atkins,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.