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 Finland and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Suburban Knight to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
The Cramps,
Cluster,
The Associates,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fear,
a-ha,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soul Sonic Force,
Porter Ricks,
Juan Atkins,
Angry Samoans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DNA,
Tommy Roe,
Malaria!,
Eli Mardock,
kango's stein massive,
Q and Not U,
Infiniti,
Kevin Saunderson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Residents,
Sam Rivers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Man Parrish,
Anakelly,
B.T. Express,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Henry Cow,
Cecil Taylor,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The American Breed,
The Skatalites,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Sherman,
Brothers Johnson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wolf Eyes,
New York Dolls,
Lightning Bolt,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Moon,
Kenny Larkin,
Erykah Badu,
Glambeats Corp.,
H. Thieme,
Dark Day,
Zapp,
Alice Coltrane,
Moebius,
Arthur Verocai,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wasted Youth,
Aural Exciters,
Blake Baxter,
Prince Buster,
Oblivians,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.