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 Solomon Islands and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Kerrie Biddell to the crunk 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Idris Muhammad,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Babytalk,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kurtis Blow,
Metal Thangz,
Prince Buster,
Intrusion,
Soft Cell,
Television,
Anakelly,
Deadbeat,
Aloha Tigers,
Magazine,
Bush Tetras,
Bill Wells,
Sex Pistols,
Harpers Bizarre,
Slave,
Skriet,
Howard Jones,
Delta 5,
Zero Boys,
Minutemen,
The Move,
Los Fastidios,
Lyres,
Sun Ra,
Y Pants,
Monolake,
Agitation Free,
Rotary Connection,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
X-102,
Roy Ayers,
Sam Rivers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lou Christie,
Swans,
The Monks,
China Crisis,
Morten Harket,
The Fire Engines,
Technova,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cal Tjader,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Skatalites,
Kayak,
Model 500,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Amazonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nirvana,
The Modern Lovers,
Underground Resistance,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.