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 Macedonia 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Rapeman to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies 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?
Roy Ayers,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Black Dice,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Model 500,
Fugazi,
Alison Limerick,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arthur Verocai,
Darondo,
Au Pairs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ornette Coleman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Coltrane,
Ossler,
Yusef Lateef,
Crime,
Surgeon,
Black Pus,
Althea and Donna,
Brand Nubian,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joensuu 1685,
Public Enemy,
Lou Christie,
Kaleidoscope,
Tres Demented,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brass Construction,
Young Marble Giants,
China Crisis,
Half Japanese,
Roxy Music,
X-102,
The J.B.'s,
L. Decosne,
Black Moon,
Alice Coltrane,
Piero Umiliani,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Beau Brummels,
Soft Cell,
Excepter,
The Dead C,
Todd Rundgren,
The Tremeloes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
This Heat,
Y Pants,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Saints,
Marine Girls,
Juan Atkins,
Accadde A,
Fela Kuti,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.