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 Hungary and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 L. Decosne to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Moss Icon,
Bootsy Collins,
Little Man,
Dual Sessions,
Fela Kuti,
Liliput,
The Motions,
The Buckinghams,
The American Breed,
The Invisible,
Brick,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marmalade,
the Germs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Youth Brigade,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Gun Club,
Swans,
Crash Course in Science,
June Days,
The Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ponytail,
Alison Limerick,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Donald Byrd,
Marvin Gaye,
Mad Mike,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Talk Talk,
Todd Rundgren,
Khruangbin,
Kurtis Blow,
Piero Umiliani,
Joey Negro,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
MC5,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DJ Sneak,
ABC,
Buzzcocks,
Heaven 17,
Moebius,
The Martian,
Popol Vuh,
The Beau Brummels,
Henry Cow,
UT,
Deepchord,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Happenings,
The Slits,
Traffic Nightmare,
Circle Jerks,
Con Funk Shun,
Stockholm Monsters,
DNA,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.