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 Sudan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ 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 The Birthday Party to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Busters,
Joey Negro,
ABBA,
Judy Mowatt,
Marmalade,
Rotary Connection,
The Invisible,
Brand Nubian,
Skaos,
Minny Pops,
Josef K,
Skarface,
Nirvana,
The Victims,
Grauzone,
Eli Mardock,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ohio Players,
Archie Shepp,
Joy Division,
Max Romeo,
Oblivians,
Donald Byrd,
Sugar Minott,
Lalann,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wings,
CMW,
Kaleidoscope,
Johnny Osbourne,
Absolute Body Control,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Moody Blues,
Parry Music,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Buzzcocks,
FM Einheit,
Minnie Riperton,
Derrick Morgan,
Black Sheep,
Stetsasonic,
Mars,
Roxy Music,
Robert Hood,
Magma,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Excepter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bronski Beat,
The Monochrome Set,
Colin Newman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rod Modell,
Second Layer,
Underground Resistance,
Electric Prunes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Bar-Kays,
Main Source,
Theoretical Girls,
The Pretty Things,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.