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 Djibouti and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Captain Beefheart 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 The Angels of Light to the grunge 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
Mandrill,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Residents,
The Birthday Party,
Fela Kuti,
The Dead C,
Aloha Tigers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Symarip,
The Golliwogs,
The Associates,
Dawn Penn,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lower 48,
Brass Construction,
the Bar-Kays,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Archie Shepp,
Rhythm & Sound,
Piero Umiliani,
Surgeon,
Nik Kershaw,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Con Funk Shun,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Y Pants,
Warsaw,
Nirvana,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Monks,
Eve St. Jones,
The Doors,
The Trojans,
the Association,
The Real Kids,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sun Ra,
Sound Behaviour,
Monks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Laurel Aitken,
The Searchers,
Soulsonic Force,
Delta 5,
David Bowie,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fortunes,
Rotary Connection,
Scion,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Moon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sun City Girls,
The Angels of Light,
Isaac Hayes,
Roy Ayers,
Juan Atkins,
Tomorrow,
Masters at Work,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.