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 Maldives and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 X-101 to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Interpol,
Fela Kuti,
Deadbeat,
Minnie Riperton,
AZ,
The Fugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Intrusion,
The Doors,
Black Bananas,
Marine Girls,
Babytalk,
Simply Red,
Agitation Free,
The Remains,
Maleditus Sound,
The Misunderstood,
Peter & Gordon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Slick Rick,
Sun City Girls,
Au Pairs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Pus,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Monochrome Set,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Frankie Knuckles,
Qualms,
MC5,
Jeff Mills,
Silicon Teens,
Colin Newman,
Sparks,
10cc,
Rekid,
Ice-T,
The Invisible,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
World's Most,
Angry Samoans,
Panda Bear,
Jandek,
Soulsonic Force,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bill Wells,
The American Breed,
Eve St. Jones,
Sandy B,
The Tremeloes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Monks,
Q and Not U,
Slave,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nas,
The Black Dice,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.