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 Georgia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 The Walker Brothers to the grunge 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
The Gun Club,
Basic Channel,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sam Rivers,
Ultra Naté,
Marshall Jefferson,
Throbbing Gristle,
H. Thieme,
Alton Ellis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hardrive,
Sonic Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
Spandau Ballet,
David Axelrod,
The Walker Brothers,
Wolf Eyes,
Dennis Brown,
Tommy Roe,
Young Marble Giants,
Masters at Work,
Gichy Dan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Agent Orange,
Lyres,
Subhumans,
Dual Sessions,
Moby Grape,
Zero Boys,
The Martian,
Sun City Girls,
Vainqueur,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Siglo XX,
D'Angelo,
Minny Pops,
The Fire Engines,
The Tremeloes,
The Sound,
the Swans,
Jacques Brel,
Todd Terry,
cv313,
The Moleskins,
Minor Threat,
Amazonics,
Marvin Gaye,
John Holt,
The Searchers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Monolake,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joensuu 1685,
Black Moon,
Derrick Morgan,
Cymande,
The Buckinghams,
the Germs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Massinfluence,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.