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 Kyrgyzstan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe 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 Don Cherry to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Skarface,
The Victims,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Underground Resistance,
Ken Boothe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Talk Talk,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Pus,
Arthur Verocai,
Moss Icon,
The J.B.'s,
Amon Düül II,
Skriet,
The Tremeloes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crash Course in Science,
The Raincoats,
New York Dolls,
World's Most,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lightning Bolt,
Fad Gadget,
Accadde A,
Eve St. Jones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Whodini,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
David Bowie,
Chrome,
Rufus Thomas,
Scan 7,
Vladislav Delay,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Motorama,
Idris Muhammad,
Andrew Hill,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shuggie Otis,
Cymande,
The Fuzztones,
Radio Birdman,
Nas,
Derrick Morgan,
Von Mondo,
Delta 5,
Michelle Simonal,
Procol Harum,
Roy Ayers,
Black Moon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lakeside,
Gang Starr,
The Shadows of Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
Little Man,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.