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 Bhutan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blancmange to the crunk 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Fear,
Mission of Burma,
The Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Trumans Water,
Ken Boothe,
Chris Corsano,
In Retrospect,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Minnie Riperton,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Beasts of Bourbon,
L. Decosne,
Godley & Creme,
Infiniti,
Pulsallama,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Swans,
Lungfish,
Scan 7,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sonic Youth,
Aloha Tigers,
Cameo,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang On A Can,
Cheater Slicks,
Charles Mingus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Colin Newman,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mantronix,
Severed Heads,
Ponytail,
Gastr Del Sol,
Animal Collective,
Warsaw,
Susan Cadogan,
Alison Limerick,
Simply Red,
The Star Department,
The Offenders,
Pole,
Nirvana,
Sällskapet,
Reagan Youth,
Nas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mo-Dettes,
Newcleus,
Vladislav Delay,
Anthony Braxton,
Minny Pops,
Johnny Clarke,
Rakim,
The Techniques,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Move,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.