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 Angola and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar 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 Henry Cow to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minny Pops,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
B.T. Express,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Connie Case,
Bobby Womack,
Minutemen,
Roxy Music,
Todd Terry,
Mark Hollis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Flipper,
Roxette,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Moody Blues,
Barbara Tucker,
Andrew Hill,
Ken Boothe,
Severed Heads,
Delta 5,
Index,
Lalann,
Model 500,
Faraquet,
Supertramp,
Bobby Sherman,
Lyres,
Althea and Donna,
Stiv Bators,
Carl Craig,
Warren Ellis,
Hashim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Spandau Ballet,
Pulsallama,
Flash Fearless,
Nils Olav,
Robert Görl,
Oneida,
The Angels of Light,
Jerry's Kids,
FM Einheit,
Dawn Penn,
Sound Behaviour,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Real Kids,
Heaven 17,
The Associates,
Johnny Osbourne,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Cale,
Technova,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Motions,
Country Teasers,
Mars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bad Manners,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.