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 Turkmenistan and from London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron 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 Minny Pops to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Silicon Teens,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Youth Brigade,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Sonics,
The Red Krayola,
Josef K,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jerry's Kids,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Stooges,
Davy DMX,
The Names,
Erasure,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roxy Music,
Bill Near,
Lower 48,
Marc Almond,
The Mummies,
The Cramps,
Minnie Riperton,
the Swans,
The Martian,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Guru Guru,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Magma,
Erykah Badu,
Wasted Youth,
Cheater Slicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
These Immortal Souls,
Main Source,
David Bowie,
Television,
Oblivians,
The Happenings,
Frankie Knuckles,
Das Ding,
Reagan Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hashim,
The Slackers,
Mission of Burma,
Johnny Osbourne,
Darondo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Womack,
The Blackbyrds,
Jandek,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chris Corsano,
Black Sheep,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nils Olav,
Moby Grape,
The Doors,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Index,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.