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 Mali and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the dance 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
The Mummies,
Loose Ends,
The Selecter,
Sixth Finger,
Kool Moe Dee,
U.S. Maple,
The Zeros,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Arab on Radar,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pagans,
Joey Negro,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sight & Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Electric Prunes,
Robert Wyatt,
The Slackers,
Siglo XX,
The Beau Brummels,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ice-T,
the Soft Cell,
the Slits,
The Leaves,
June Days,
The Associates,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maurizio,
The New Christs,
Derrick May,
The Evens,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Leonard Cohen,
Bang On A Can,
Delta 5,
Echospace,
Cybotron,
Essential Logic,
Black Moon,
Absolute Body Control,
Fat Boys,
The Fugs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Deepchord,
Blossom Toes,
Nirvana,
Sam Rivers,
Q65,
Japan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Minutemen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Connie Case,
The Seeds,
Arcadia,
John Holt,
Deakin,
Bill Near,
Robert Görl,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.