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 Namibia and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 H. Thieme to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Henry Cow,
Slick Rick,
Supertramp,
Sandy B,
Urselle,
Sight & Sound,
Black Sheep,
Minnie Riperton,
Blossom Toes,
The Index,
The New Christs,
Kaleidoscope,
The Knickerbockers,
Malaria!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yellowson,
LL Cool J,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Adolescents,
Rufus Thomas,
Minutemen,
The Motions,
Unrelated Segments,
Kenny Larkin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Intrusion,
D'Angelo,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Starr,
Boredoms,
June Days,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Swans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rosa Yemen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blake Baxter,
Arcadia,
Radiopuhelimet,
Massinfluence,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Happenings,
Nirvana,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monochrome Set,
U.S. Maple,
Hot Snakes,
Scientists,
Zapp,
Parry Music,
Deepchord,
Ronan,
Gabor Szabo,
Juan Atkins,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.