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 Moldova and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bang On A Can to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
The Motions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
China Crisis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Donny Hathaway,
Minnie Riperton,
Mark Hollis,
Bobby Byrd,
Infiniti,
EPMD,
Peter and Kerry,
The Cramps,
The Smiths,
Suburban Knight,
Siglo XX,
X-Ray Spex,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Smog,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Underground Resistance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Charles Mingus,
Make Up,
Procol Harum,
Schoolly D,
Fatback Band,
Ronan,
Terry Callier,
Ultra Naté,
Audionom,
Lightning Bolt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rapeman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pet Shop Boys,
Arcadia,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Electric Prunes,
Lyres,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Slackers,
The Monochrome Set,
Sparks,
Vladislav Delay,
The Beau Brummels,
Nirvana,
Royal Trux,
June of 44,
The Gladiators,
The Toasters,
Groovy Waters,
Kenny Larkin,
Man Parrish,
John Lydon,
Hot Snakes,
H. Thieme,
New York Dolls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.