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 Cameroon and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Idris Muhammad to the dance 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Derrick May,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Slave,
Rekid,
Ronan,
Aaron Thompson,
Derrick Morgan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Harry Pussy,
Radio Birdman,
Junior Murvin,
T.S.O.L.,
The Grass Roots,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Livin' Joy,
Spoonie Gee,
Heaven 17,
Blancmange,
T. Rex,
Tropical Tobacco,
Underground Resistance,
Rakim,
The Young Rascals,
The Buckinghams,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Byrd,
The Golliwogs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lower 48,
Simply Red,
The New Christs,
Audionom,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Divine Comedy,
Deadbeat,
Bluetip,
The Techniques,
Ponytail,
Deepchord,
The Barracudas,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mission of Burma,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
Dave Gahan,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Swans,
Joyce Sims,
Althea and Donna,
Goldenarms,
Masters at Work,
Amon Düül,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.