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 Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba 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 Eve St. Jones to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Das Ding,
The Invisible,
Eric Dolphy,
Anakelly,
Liliput,
Colin Newman,
Avey Tare,
Mark Hollis,
Josef K,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Motorama,
Archie Shepp,
One Last Wish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
E-Dancer,
Mission of Burma,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Interpol,
The Residents,
a-ha,
Traffic Nightmare,
Au Pairs,
Bootsy Collins,
The Human League,
Country Teasers,
Lou Reed,
Mars,
The Star Department,
The Victims,
Todd Terry,
Buzzcocks,
Gang Green,
Nick Fraelich,
Dawn Penn,
Franke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Index,
The Index,
the Sonics,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eden Ahbez,
Guru Guru,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Essential Logic,
Dead Boys,
Cybotron,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fatback Band,
Niagra,
the Slits,
Tomorrow,
The Martian,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Stiv Bators,
Robert Görl,
Mandrill,
Alice Coltrane,
Bang On A Can,
The Smiths,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.