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 Zambia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Nirvana,
Lungfish,
One Last Wish,
Warsaw,
Babytalk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Big Daddy Kane,
Intrusion,
Goldenarms,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Shoche,
The Black Dice,
Faraquet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sam Rivers,
Michelle Simonal,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Patti Smith,
Aloha Tigers,
Cybotron,
Steve Hackett,
Sex Pistols,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
X-102,
Rites of Spring,
Angry Samoans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
a-ha,
Basic Channel,
Livin' Joy,
Joy Division,
Q and Not U,
The Gun Club,
The Names,
Kurtis Blow,
Albert Ayler,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aural Exciters,
Easy Going,
Desert Stars,
Kool Moe Dee,
Visage,
Connie Case,
Moss Icon,
Toni Rubio,
David Axelrod,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Alton Ellis,
Matthew Halsall,
Clear Light,
Cecil Taylor,
Television,
Gong,
The Smiths,
Excepter,
Harry Pussy,
Man Parrish,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.