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 Denmark and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Funkadelic to the crunk 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
New Age Steppers,
Popol Vuh,
The Last Poets,
The Fugs,
Mandrill,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
B.T. Express,
Amazonics,
Chrome,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wings,
Quadrant,
Urselle,
The Vogues,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Raincoats,
Quando Quango,
The Music Machine,
Blancmange,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Y Pants,
Howard Jones,
Slick Rick,
Essential Logic,
Arcadia,
Masters at Work,
Mo-Dettes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ken Boothe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fear,
Minutemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Organ,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
DJ Sneak,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brass Construction,
The Detroit Cobras,
Freddie Wadling,
Deakin,
Danielle Patucci,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Byrd,
Goldenarms,
Section 25,
Sandy B,
AZ,
Warren Ellis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boz Scaggs,
Dual Sessions,
Janne Schatter,
the Association,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vainqueur,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.