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 Paraguay and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the funk 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bizarre Inc.,
Simply Red,
Lalann,
Big Daddy Kane,
New York Dolls,
The Monks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Q65,
The Blackbyrds,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Model 500,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Moody Blues,
The Index,
Radiohead,
Brick,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marcia Griffiths,
Avey Tare,
Alison Limerick,
Ponytail,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Normal,
Robert Wyatt,
Shoche,
Todd Rundgren,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Connie Case,
Skaos,
The Cure,
Pylon,
Oblivians,
Symarip,
Juan Atkins,
Scion,
The Zeros,
Isaac Hayes,
Masters at Work,
Brass Construction,
Skriet,
Youth Brigade,
Half Japanese,
The Move,
Sun Ra,
X-101,
Unrelated Segments,
Susan Cadogan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
U.S. Maple,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Freddie Wadling,
ABC,
Andrew Hill,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Real Kids,
Grey Daturas,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.