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 Tajikistan and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pussy Galore to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Animal Collective,
Dave Gahan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marmalade,
Buzzcocks,
the Association,
Soul Sonic Force,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kerri Chandler,
Duran Duran,
The Slackers,
The Seeds,
Country Teasers,
Joe Finger,
Black Bananas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crime,
Tubeway Army,
Mandrill,
Amon Düül,
John Holt,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Coltrane,
Basic Channel,
Shuggie Otis,
Rites of Spring,
The Gap Band,
Wings,
Loose Ends,
Rod Modell,
Sun Ra,
Theoretical Girls,
The United States of America,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mark Hollis,
Gregory Isaacs,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeff Mills,
Leonard Cohen,
The Grass Roots,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gong,
Wasted Youth,
R.M.O.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gang Starr,
Rakim,
The Velvet Underground,
Prince Buster,
Slave,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Second Layer,
Pantaleimon,
Whodini,
The Fugs,
The Selecter,
In Retrospect,
Popol Vuh,
Ultravox,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.