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 Turkmenistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Nik Kershaw 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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
R.M.O.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Pus,
Niagra,
Royal Trux,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Shuggie Otis,
Moss Icon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pylon,
Lungfish,
Vladislav Delay,
The Kinks,
Scientists,
Gichy Dan,
Sam Rivers,
Tomorrow,
Dead Boys,
Cybotron,
New York Dolls,
Davy DMX,
Intrusion,
Yusef Lateef,
Cluster,
Marvin Gaye,
Godley & Creme,
Popol Vuh,
Kaleidoscope,
Q and Not U,
Jacques Brel,
Ken Boothe,
Alphaville,
Matthew Bourne,
The Seeds,
Gang of Four,
MC5,
Rosa Yemen,
Siglo XX,
Yazoo,
The Mummies,
Bobby Sherman,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül,
The Tremeloes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Franke,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Stooges,
The Moody Blues,
Tubeway Army,
Brass Construction,
Toni Rubio,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dual Sessions,
The Names,
Ludus,
Minutemen,
Fluxion,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.