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 Turkmenistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Isaac Hayes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Desert Stars,
T. Rex,
Wasted Youth,
Brass Construction,
Sister Nancy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
X-Ray Spex,
The Doobie Brothers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Y Pants,
Unrelated Segments,
The Tremeloes,
The Gap Band,
Arab on Radar,
The Star Department,
T.S.O.L.,
The Blackbyrds,
The Slackers,
Rapeman,
The Beau Brummels,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Underground Resistance,
Isaac Hayes,
Radio Birdman,
This Heat,
ABBA,
OOIOO,
Sällskapet,
Jacques Brel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Modern Lovers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Moby Grape,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang Starr,
Amon Düül II,
Talk Talk,
Masters at Work,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skaos,
The Names,
Mandrill,
The Fall,
Bobby Womack,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ponytail,
David Bowie,
Pulsallama,
Livin' Joy,
Loose Ends,
Cal Tjader,
The Count Five,
The Skatalites,
The Sound,
The Golliwogs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Public Enemy,
Inner City,
Cluster,
Lakeside,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.