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 Kenya and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 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 kango's stein massive to the crunk 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Wasted Youth,
Ponytail,
Lalann,
The Associates,
Bobby Womack,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Cramps,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Angels of Light,
The Selecter,
Slick Rick,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Coltrane,
Porter Ricks,
The Fugs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Terry Callier,
The Victims,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Iggy Pop,
Unrelated Segments,
The Grass Roots,
Toni Rubio,
Ituana,
Can,
Visage,
Marcia Griffiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Quadrant,
Gong,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Human League,
DNA,
The Fire Engines,
Peter & Gordon,
H. Thieme,
Kerri Chandler,
Absolute Body Control,
MC5,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fat Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
Suburban Knight,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Quando Quango,
The Smoke,
UT,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radio Birdman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James White and The Blacks,
Laurel Aitken,
Alison Limerick,
Tomorrow,
Animal Collective,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Little Man,
Altered Images,
The Gories,
Lindisfarne,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.