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 Guatemala and from Paris.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum 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 The Wake to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
The Barracudas,
Crooked Eye,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dorothy Ashby,
Main Source,
UT,
Avey Tare,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neu!,
The Seeds,
Hoover,
Black Pus,
China Crisis,
The Invisible,
This Heat,
Angry Samoans,
Derrick May,
Albert Ayler,
the Normal,
Sandy B,
Slave,
Cymande,
Robert Görl,
David McCallum,
Hardrive,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Reuben Wilson,
John Coltrane,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doors,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultravox,
Little Man,
Aswad,
Tom Boy,
Man Parrish,
Blake Baxter,
Das Ding,
Judy Mowatt,
Mission of Burma,
Pantaleimon,
The Wake,
Swans,
Cluster,
John Holt,
Essential Logic,
Cybotron,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Music Machine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Pop Group,
Gabor Szabo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Freddie Wadling,
Ituana,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.