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 Cambodia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Girls At Our Best! 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Panda Bear,
Kenny Larkin,
Pylon,
Ohio Players,
The Sound,
Tomorrow,
The Toasters,
Radiopuhelimet,
AZ,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Real Kids,
Fluxion,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Bananas,
Yusef Lateef,
Fatback Band,
The Cowsills,
Simply Red,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Quadrant,
The Cramps,
Archie Shepp,
Interpol,
Cheater Slicks,
Yaz,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gories,
Franke,
Con Funk Shun,
The Blackbyrds,
The Raincoats,
Todd Terry,
X-101,
Derrick May,
Symarip,
Gang Starr,
Juan Atkins,
Slick Rick,
Amon Düül II,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
June Days,
Scrapy,
David Bowie,
Joe Smooth,
Marvin Gaye,
Traffic Nightmare,
Donald Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Whodini,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fire Engines,
Alton Ellis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ossler,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.