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 Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 güiro 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 Eddi Front to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks 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?
Buzzcocks,
La Düsseldorf,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Q and Not U,
Yellowson,
Marmalade,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Mummies,
Bad Manners,
Alton Ellis,
Marine Girls,
The Fugs,
Sällskapet,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Neon Judgement,
Ten City,
Rakim,
Essential Logic,
John Cale,
Roxette,
Wings,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Black Dice,
Lightning Bolt,
The Birthday Party,
Al Stewart,
The Smiths,
Ohio Players,
Mantronix,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Deepchord,
Scrapy,
Junior Murvin,
the Association,
Derrick May,
Bush Tetras,
Scan 7,
JFA,
Chris Corsano,
Black Sheep,
Throbbing Gristle,
Von Mondo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ronnie Foster,
Excepter,
Moebius,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sister Nancy,
Hashim,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rapeman,
Terry Callier,
Max Romeo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crispy Ambulance,
Freddie Wadling,
Nik Kershaw,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.