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 Liechtenstein and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Suburban Knight 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Radiohead,
Jacob Miller,
The Stooges,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Hood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Loose Ends,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Spoonie Gee,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hoover,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Country Teasers,
Kayak,
Fatback Band,
Connie Case,
Tres Demented,
Michelle Simonal,
Camouflage,
Erasure,
Max Romeo,
Eric Copeland,
the Germs,
Harmonia,
Kerri Chandler,
Theoretical Girls,
Boredoms,
Lalo Schifrin,
The New Christs,
Joe Smooth,
Erykah Badu,
Gang Green,
Bobby Byrd,
Godley & Creme,
The Smoke,
Slick Rick,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Toasters,
Cluster,
The Birthday Party,
Scion,
Skarface,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
DJ Style,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Carl Craig,
Roxy Music,
Brick,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Star Department,
Stiv Bators,
Josef K,
Pussy Galore,
Mo-Dettes,
Infiniti,
The Black Dice,
Hot Snakes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.