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 Kazakhstan and from Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 T. Rex to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Gregory Isaacs,
Max Romeo,
Smog,
Lalann,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sam Rivers,
Echospace,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ken Boothe,
The Standells,
X-Ray Spex,
Drive Like Jehu,
Johnny Osbourne,
10cc,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sugar Minott,
Scientists,
The Pop Group,
Television Personalities,
Magazine,
Stiv Bators,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mojo Men,
Bad Manners,
The Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
Ludus,
Bobby Womack,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Smiths,
Man Eating Sloth,
Guru Guru,
Ronan,
Prince Buster,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tubeway Army,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Flipper,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Television,
Banda Bassotti,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Matthew Bourne,
Bang On A Can,
UT,
Gong,
Inner City,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Cale,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Index,
Roxy Music,
Newcleus,
The Doors,
JFA,
The New Christs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
June Days,
Jerry's Kids,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.