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 Yemen and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Josef K to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick Morgan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eddi Front,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Seeds,
Susan Cadogan,
The Selecter,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Soft Machine,
Soul II Soul,
Jandek,
Sex Pistols,
Judy Mowatt,
Ornette Coleman,
Crooked Eye,
The Blues Magoos,
Fear,
Wire,
Monolake,
Dorothy Ashby,
Echospace,
Tres Demented,
DNA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minnie Riperton,
Eden Ahbez,
Panda Bear,
The Martian,
Eli Mardock,
Hasil Adkins,
Jacob Miller,
James White and The Blacks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Danielle Patucci,
Roxy Music,
Moby Grape,
Cluster,
Quando Quango,
Gregory Isaacs,
Accadde A,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fluxion,
Khruangbin,
Supertramp,
Rotary Connection,
Faraquet,
Graham Central Station,
The Angels of Light,
Basic Channel,
the Soft Cell,
Hoover,
Al Stewart,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pantytec,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rod Modell,
Dennis Brown,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.