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 Finland and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dennis Brown to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cybotron,
Mantronix,
Hot Snakes,
Kas Product,
Visage,
Interpol,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
This Heat,
Theoretical Girls,
Liliput,
Scion,
The Smiths,
B.T. Express,
The Angels of Light,
Thompson Twins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nico,
the Normal,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cowsills,
Amon Düül II,
Sexual Harrassment,
Frankie Knuckles,
June of 44,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Saints,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Monochrome Set,
The Trojans,
FM Einheit,
MDC,
Andrew Hill,
The Grass Roots,
The Count Five,
Big Daddy Kane,
a-ha,
Jawbox,
Essential Logic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Electric Prunes,
David Bowie,
Kurtis Blow,
Marine Girls,
Clear Light,
David Axelrod,
Junior Murvin,
John Foxx,
The Fortunes,
Tears for Fears,
Wire,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Gladiators,
Sällskapet,
Reagan Youth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Christie,
Juan Atkins,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.