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 Madrid.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lindisfarne,
Electric Prunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Sherman,
Camberwell Now,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sarah Menescal,
Toni Rubio,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Maleditus Sound,
Lebanon Hanover,
These Immortal Souls,
The Count Five,
Nick Fraelich,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Sound,
The Real Kids,
Trumans Water,
Surgeon,
FM Einheit,
The Mojo Men,
Jacques Brel,
Stereo Dub,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tommy Roe,
June Days,
Fatback Band,
Terry Callier,
Be Bop Deluxe,
This Heat,
Joensuu 1685,
Davy DMX,
Franke,
the Bar-Kays,
Minor Threat,
UT,
Godley & Creme,
The Mummies,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Techniques,
The Walker Brothers,
Bang On A Can,
Animal Collective,
Hoover,
Iggy Pop,
Quantec,
D'Angelo,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Moby Grape,
The Fire Engines,
Oneida,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Durutti Column,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Womack,
Shuggie Otis,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.