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 Egypt and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 Dead Boys to the grime 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Black Dice,
Magma,
Kerrie Biddell,
Guru Guru,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Faust,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Michelle Simonal,
Eve St. Jones,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wire,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Cale,
Man Parrish,
The Motions,
The Fuzztones,
EPMD,
Loose Ends,
Simply Red,
New Age Steppers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tropical Tobacco,
Urselle,
Kevin Saunderson,
Shuggie Otis,
L. Decosne,
Lalann,
Bobby Womack,
Cheater Slicks,
Kurtis Blow,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terry Callier,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers,
Nick Fraelich,
Chris & Cosey,
F. McDonald,
The Leaves,
These Immortal Souls,
JFA,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pulsallama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Zero Boys,
Ohio Players,
Monolake,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ituana,
Archie Shepp,
Barclay James Harvest,
Severed Heads,
The Selecter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crispian St. Peters,
Desert Stars,
Thompson Twins,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.